


went to the boundary of sound

by upallnightstrungtight



Series: what if we [4]
Category: Super Junior
Genre: M/M, Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-09-07 17:31:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8809720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/upallnightstrungtight/pseuds/upallnightstrungtight
Summary: Holding on tighter wouldn’t work, couldn’t work. He could feel the shape they form changing, an ocean away from home.





	1. Start

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm quite unhappy with how this fic came out, but I'm too sick to fix it and it's the end of the series, so I'm posting it anyway.

“I finally found it!” Ryeowook shouted as he practically leaped off the stairs.

“Found what, babe?” Henry asked, flopping his head to the side, instantly ignoring the TV.

“Three days in a row with no birthdays, no holidays, and absolutely nothing scheduled. You two are coming with me to New York.”

“We are?” Even a second later, when the words had registered with Henry and prompted him to look, Donghae still looked frozen in startlement; Ryeowook wasn’t always the best at easing him into things, for all that he should be well practiced at that.

“That’s right. I wanted five, but who knows when that could happen. The end of the year? Anyway, I’ve got the flight and hotel room picked out, so I’m going to finish planning the rest now.”

“ _Now?_ When is it?” With how frenzied Ryeowook was, Henry was genuinely afraid of the answer to his question.

“In about four months.” Silence. There was a pause that stretched out so long, he looked deflated by the end of it. “Why? Is it a problem?”

“No, it sounds great,” Donghae finally piped up, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “I’d be happy to go with you.”

 _Hmm. Strange._ Henry sensed that there was something here he wasn’t privy to, some undercurrent he’d been left out of, turning the air heavy with implication. Trouble was, even if that was the case, he didn’t know what to do or quite how to feel about it. Shrugging and setting the matter aside, he threw caution to the wind.

“You know I’m good,” he said in English, smirking at Ryeowook. That settled it. Ryeowook's delight was palpable in the split-second before he bounded away, calling back an absent-minded thanks, so clearly already lost in his own world.

A break sounded great. And maybe… Maybe getting out from under the microscope for a little while.

*

“Do you mind if I change your pillowcases?” Ryeowook asked. “They’re smelling musty.”

“Huh? Oh, sure. Please put them in the basket in the corner,” Henry said, distracted by picking out clothes to the point of lapsing into more polite speech out of old habit.

“I’ll do it,” Donghae quickly said.

“Oh, uh, thank you,” Henry said, still preoccupied. By the time it’d registered how unusual that was, Donghae had already flung the pillows themselves out of the covers and onto the bed, so Henry shrugged and left him to it. He threw in a bunch of t-shirts, scowling at himself. _Should’ve thought about this earlier than the night before leaving._

Moving around Henry’s piles so that he could evaluate, Ryeowook chided them to pack warm clothes, too, sweaters and jackets, but with a happy glow emanating from him.

“Yes, sir!” Henry tried to joke, though Ryeowook was already tossing a few back to make a new pile. Donghae was still struggling to shake the first pillow into one of the blue covers he’d pulled out. This was… nice. Comforting.

Henry put a sweater in his suitcase. He looked at it, humming and shifting his weight side to side. “Do you think I’ll need two sweaters?”

“Hm. Yeah, just in case,” Ryeowook said. He rooted around in his own suitcase for a moment. “I brought three and an umbrella, but one of them’s light.”

“I’ll share yours if it comes up. I don’t have any extra space,” Henry lamented, frowning at the offending object and crossing his arms.

“I’ve gotta get home,” Donghae suddenly said, the words blurring together. “I’ve got an early morning thing, I’ll meet you at the airport as soon as I’m done for the day.” He left with only brief, cursory hugs, hurrying out the door as soon as his shoes were on.

Ryeowook chuckled once he’d left. “Ah, really now. I hope he learns one of these days. Anyway, you’ll have more room if you roll it like this…”

*

Twenty minutes before their flight and another ten after he said he’d be there, Donghae ambled into view of the seating area by the gate. He looked lost, or cautious, his chin tilting this way and that as he looked around. Henry waved him over with his entire arm, well-rested and energetic with absolutely nothing to do.

For reasons unknown, Donghae didn’t take his hands out of his pockets as he half-jogged over, the motion of his shoulders and the way he sort of bounced on the balls of his feet as he went making it look almost like dancing. _At least that’s normal for him._ “Hey. My last schedule ran late,” he said when he stopped.

“It’s a good thing you made it in time or you’d have to leave the next morning instead,” Ryeowook said matter-of-factly. Donghae’s eyes went wide for an instant. Henry stared, trying to figure out if something was off or if it was just fatigue.

“Uh?” Then Donghae flashed them a huge smile. “No need to worry, I’ve got this under control,” he said, self-assured. Ryeowook snorted, then patted the seat next to him, recrossing his legs once Donghae sat down. Henry followed automatically, leaning back in his seat, letting his head fall back and then to the side. _Nothing to dooooooo. Hate waiting._

Sitting was an imperfect way to describe what Donghae was doing at the moment. He bounced in his seat, making the metal squeak angrily, over and over until Ryeowook touched his knee to get him to settle down. By now, he didn’t have to say anything. Donghae took a deep breath, the small row of chairs no longer rocking, along with them, of course.

His phone out again, Ryeowook mouthed unknown words while staring intently at it. Henry tore his gaze away from Ryeowook’s profile to see what looked like flash cards. He wanted to lean against him, offer quiet encouragement, but, self-conscious all of a sudden, he settled for the far less warm touch of his own device, leaving all of them in their own worlds for a little longer.

“So bored,” he muttered under his breath, definitely _not_ pouting.

*

Not sleeping on the flight at all was too hard, so they got by on a few hours at the end. Three? Four? Enough to sleepwalk to this point, at any rate, setting their bags down on burgundy carpeting that looked nicer than it felt.

Neither of them objected, or were surprised, for that matter, that Ryeowook’s suitcase turned out to be half-filled with snacks. His long row of supplements that he set out along the back edge of the flimsy-looking desk, butting up against the wall, was greeted with significantly less enthusiasm. Henry could’ve sworn he heard the spindly contraption joining in on their grumbling.

“Your health still matters on vacation,” Ryeowook said archly, chin held high as if daring either of them to challenge him. It seemed Donghae had learned to pick his battles, since he was already singing quietly as he placed his clothes and various bottles and jars in the same layout he did in every hotel room.

Laying back on the bed, Henry’s blinks got slower. Or longer. He couldn’t tell. Blink, Donghae’s humming was echoing in the small bathroom. Another blink, he and Ryeowook were both putting clothes away. There must’ve been a lot of blinks that he missed ‘cause he came back to his senses to find that Ryeowook was pulling his shirt off, which was very confusing until flannel slid over his arm. He blinked really fast a few times, yawned, catching up to the thought that it was too cold to sleep naked here, too. Unless they turned the heat _way_ up. That was too far, and a waste, to boot.

He managed the rest himself, though only because he didn’t have to move much, trading his jeans for something soft in washed-out grey that appeared next to him in a messy sprawl. Not gonna bother with the buttons on the top; he always woke up with them undone anyway.

“Hyung, put that away,” Ryeowook whispered. After a quiet thump, the space behind Henry’s eyelids got less bright. He opened them again, only to close them right after at the flutter-soft press of lips to his. Predictably, it was over as soon as it started. But nice.

“Mm. Hi there.” English slipped out like water. He was already swimming in it. It was a nice surprise to find himself so relaxed.

Ryeowook's soft hand, his touch careful like it always was, slid over his, pressing his fingers in between the spaces of Henry’s. The second kiss, from the side Henry wasn’t facing, caught the corner of his mouth. He turned over without haste to get the full experience, to complete it. Donghae’s arm hooked over his waist before Henry felt the rest of him, which was usually a prelude. . .  t o . . .

*

Confused, still thinking about a courtroom that didn’t actually exist, he woke up slowly and groggily. _S’too early. When did I fall asleep?_ Noises. He hoped they’d stop soon. _Why_ am _I awake?_ But then he realized that he’s on some floor up in the high double digits, which meant those sounds weren’t rustling bushes or squirrels or anything like that.

He rubbed at his eyes, the next thought taking its time in coming, indistinct, but he managed to remember that there was something he didn’t know. The only hint he got was in the too-cold early morning while he fervently kept his eyes closed in hopes of getting back to sleep.

“It’s okay.”

What’s okay? Was something wrong before?

"You thought it'd never happen, huh," Donghae whispered.

"I didn't think _any_ of this would happen," Ryeowook whispered back. The sound transported Henry back over a decade for the span of two heartbeats, close and warm and so tired that everything seemed funny.

He was sure he'd remember to ask later, after he got some more sleep.

The courtroom was filled with sharks the second time around, and he woke up ready to argue with them. He was yawning before he was conscious of it, still keeping his eyes mostly closed, only occasionally deigning to open them. A shift in pressure on the mattress followed by a soft touch trailing down his cheek told him that Ryeowook had gotten back into bed next to him, so of course, Henry grabbed him with one still-heavy arm to pull him close. Ryeowook tried to pull away by reflex, like he always did, before settling down with a not-unhappy huff of breath from his nose.

“You slept a lot,” Ryeowook said, sounding pleased. Henry smacked his lips a couple of times, not opening his eyes yet.

“You fell into my trap,” he half-mumbled, half-croaked. “Now you’re stuck here forever.”

“I’m not,” Ryeowook said with confidence while Henry blinked his eyes open wider and wider. “You have to go eat sometime.”

“Hurry up!” Donghae threw in, firm yet friendly where he leaned against the wall.

“You’re one to talk about being slow,” Henry shot back as he watched Donghae walk over to sit on the corner of the bed. The way he moved never failed to stir up a gust of heat. “I’m awake, I’m getting up.”

Rather than placating Donghae, that only made him chant at Henry to get up, bouncing on the bed the whole time. After releasing Ryeowook, Henry scooted close enough to kick Donghae through the blanket. That was a mistake. It must’ve been, because he had no idea how they ended up on the floor, the blanket twisted around his legs, and, okay, guess it was kissing time now. And then it wasn’t, almost as soon as he realized.

“Ha! Got you out of bed,” Donghae crowed, rolling them over so he could get up.

“I was getting there anyway,” Henry whined. One pant leg had rolled up above his knee, but only one, and the sensation annoyed him. He scratched at his head, then let Donghae pull him up. More picking up than pulling up, if he was being honest with himself. Despite the sore spots that left along the sides of his ribs, the pulse of _want_ that shot through him jarred him awake quicker than the most bitter, pungent coffee, though he had to be practical and let that pass. The mattress springs squeaked to his right.

“Here,” Ryeowook said, opening up Henry’s suitcase on the bed and taking out a light jacket. “It’s supposed to be windy today.”

“Thanks,” Henry said as he pulled out the bag with his toothbrush and toothpaste. “That one’s fine. I’ll be ready soon.”

He’d switched on that last sentence without realizing it. So easy, so _comfortable,_ not even the slightest strain forming the sounds or reaching for words of the right type and level. That might’ve been the most destressing part of the whole thing. Or whatever the opposite of stressful was.

After he finished up, he saw Donghae’s chin on Ryeowook’s shoulder, eyes closed and a lazy smile spread across his face, and immediately knew he was wrong about that. He dressed quickly, excited about nothing he could pinpoint.

“See?” Donghae said quietly to Ryeowook as he was leaning on him. “I kept my promise. I promised you this much and now you have it.”

“Thank you,” Ryeowook replied just as quietly. “You’re the best. Love you.”

“What’re you two whispering about?” Henry said as he maneuvered around them, propping the door open with his foot.

“Ah, sorry,” Ryeowook said with a laugh, “it’s something from a long time ago. I’ll explain later. Come on!” He grabbed Henry’s hand as if it was the most natural thing in the world, leading him with a firm grip as much as his fast, determined gait. “Let’s go. We’ve got places to be!”

 _Him and his schedules,_ Henry thought fondly, letting himself be pulled along.


	2. Escape

The subway was the mixed bag of an experience it always was, though they seem to have missed the worst of it. (Unexciting, in this case, was a big, huuuuge plus. He suppressed a shudder.)

As soon as they stepped out into the open air, it all came back to him. Priority number one was food that didn't come from a vending machine or a suitcase. Not only that, but he was gonna get something he hadn't had in years: the perfect hot dog. Hard to justify making the trip on any regular basis, but he remembered it so well - perfectly seasoned, bursting with flavor... Nothing would stand in his way. Soon, it would be his for the taking. Er, eating.

He patted his pocket for the dozenth time to make sure his wallet hadn't somehow disappeared, not that there’d been any space left between him and Donghae to make that a possibility, up until a couple of minutes ago. "I'll lead the way," he said with conviction, not even thinking to look back as he let his feet take him towards nothing short of destiny. Also, he ignored any snickering he thought he might’ve heard.

The wonders of technology: finding places easily. Now _this_ would start the trip off right.

Life buzzed on around them, creaking and splashing and roaring, flowing swiftly around the obstacle they created. A weight had lifted off his shoulders, floated off into the wispy clouds streaked across the sky. “There, across the street,” he said, stopping to let them catch up. Donghae craned his head up to look at the sign, which seemed unnecessary.

“Is it this one? That’s a big building.” He stuck his head forward. “Famous? What're they famous for?”

“ _Hot dogs,_ ” Henry answered, voice triumphant, chin held high.

“Yeah!” Could always count on Donghae to be excited about food. That was probably supposed to sound excited, anyway, and it did, though it also sounded kinda weirdly sexy. Henry put his hand on the back of Donghae's neck, rubbed the area a little while leading him forward, through the crosswalk and into the building to stand in line. _Almostsoclose-_

At the first whiff that hit when they’d stepped inside, Donghae made this chest-deep hum that made it hard to focus on food for a couple of seconds. No, none of that. Destiny!

“What?” Donghae said mildly, still facing the front.

 _Oops. Said that out loud._ “Nothing.” There was a tap to his arm. He turned to his left to see Ryeowook looking off to the side, a little hunched in on himself. Embarrassed? Huh.

“Get me some fries. I’ll wait over there,” he said, motioning toward a crowd on one side with an open palm.

Henry lowered his voice, leaned in closer. “Are you sure that’s all you want?”

“I’m not that hungry in the morning nowadays.”

There might never be a time when that wasn’t a bit unsettling, but he nodded and moved on. The real question now was two… or three? He prodded Donghae to go forward first so that he’d have an extra few seconds. _Not_ listening to his voice - he was making an important decision right now.

Damnit. He remembered that he’d made himself sick trying to get three down last time. As much as he wanted to stuff himself, he went with two. But he was unhappy about it.

Still, he couldn’t focus on anything else. Condiments and toppings all taken care of, he considered holding the paper plate aloft like the prize it was, decided mental theatrics were plenty and he didn't want to risk dropping them anyway. Hell, he’d probably get shoved out of the way and lose the whole thing and then they’d fall behind schedule- His elbow was moving itself?

Not quite - Ryeowook had rejoined them, just as Donghae surged ahead to claim a table outside.

“Hey, are you _sure_ you don’t want one?” Henry asked one last time as they walked farther away from the registers. Someone rushed by past them while biting into their hot dog, a glob of saeurkraut falling off onto the floor.

Immediately, Ryeowook scowled with disgust and said, “I'm not putting that greasy thing in my mouth!”

"That's not what you said last night" came out in English without a second thought, or a first, for that matter. Smirking, Henry set his plate down, then turned it around so that Ryeowook could get at the fries. Instead of any sort of acknowledgement, Ryeowook nibbled on the fries with endearingly delicate little bites. Cute, but not what Henry was going for at all. Growing desperate, he sent a pleading look. Nothing.

“Said what last night?” Donghae was the one who responded instead, the very image of innocence. “You didn't talk about hot dogs last night! I would've remembered that.” The last syllable was distorted by his suddenly full mouth.

"Guys, come _on!_ That was an easy one!" Crestfallen, Henry let out a groan filled with dissatisfaction, letting his head fall into his hands. Damnit! He was _so sure_ they’d get a simple one like that. Back to the drawing board.

“What’s easy?” Ryeowook asked. He sounded just as innocent, too, patting Henry’s head.

“Never mind,” Henry said in a sad, drooping voice, letting his elbows fall off the table and his hands fall away from his face. Oh well, food’ll fix it. Sadness was left far behind in favor of flavors he hadn’t experienced in years. _Years!_ Fuck, why did he wait so long?!

Donghae looped his arm through Henry’s, then started a sentence but abandoned it in favor of stuffing his mouth full as quickly as possible while looking off into the distance, standing at attention in his seat like a chipmunk ready to bolt at any second. With the failure of his last innuendo to inspire the intended middle school amusement still fresh in his mind, Henry held his tongue on any more complex ones he wanted to blurt out now, not without some lingering disappointment.

He’d never had to think of these things as complex, but they were. Such a trivial matter seemed like it shouldn’t have bothered him at this point. Too bad feelings didn’t care about logic. Getting his arm back brought him out of spacing out, making him miss the warmth already.

Donghae wiped the crumbs from his hands and mumbled a “let’s go”, walking away with purpose towards a yet-unknown destination. Ryeowook was the one to grab his plate, Henry putting their shared one on top of it to be thrown away. He jogged to catch up to Donghae first, the sound of waves and the jumble of voices mixing with the roar of a train blanking his mind for a moment. He bumped Donghae’s shoulder with his own, now that Donghae had finally stopped.

“Trying to get away from us?” Henry lobbed at him. He walked past Donghae, turned around, saw Ryeowook coming towards him, unhurried like he always walked when he wasn’t working. The the way his hips moved had Henry’s mind blanking yet again for a moment.

Just then, Donghae gave back twice as hard of a push as he got to the tune of screams that weren’t so far off anymore. “Ride that rollercoaster with me,” he said with a triumphant grin, challenge booming in his tone and shining in his eyes.

“No way! Nuh-uh. Not happening,” Henry firmly said. Despite that, as soon as Ryeowook joined them, they fell into a parallel formation walking towards the ride in question.

“Ryeowook, coming with?” Half a second later, Donghae made frustrated sound and stuck his hands in his pockets. Henry didn’t need to see to know that Ryeowook had smiled and shaken his head. With that, Donghae got a few paces in front of them, turning around to walk backwards. “Cowards!”

Henry knew they’d both stuck out their tongues at Donghae at the same time because they made the exact same “nuhh!” sound when they did so. In turn, Donghae looked at them with amused affection for a moment before he turned to go, though not before he’d bumped into a trash can.

“You're both scaredy cats! See you soon!” Donghae yelled over his shoulder, breaking into a run.

“Have fun, you jerk!” Henry called to him. He didn’t envy anyone who found themselves in Donghae’s way. A glance at Ryeowook covering up a yawn, a touch to his shoulder, and the two of them went to find a bench to sit on.

Henry knews that Ryeowook would let him know if he wanted to talk. Since he wasn’t sending any of his usual signals, Henry put on some lip balm so that he wouldn’t bite any drying skin off. It wasn’t all that cold, but the occasional gusts of wind made it _feel_ cold, not to mention dry. He huddled into his jacket, quickly sticking his hands back into his pockets, idly tapping his feet together.

He thought he was getting pretty good at this patience thing.

Ryeowook turned partway to face him, hands on his knees, tilting his head and giving him that crinkly-eyed smile that he couldn’t help but return. After the latest round of shrieks died down in the background, Henry decided that a little conversation couldn’t hurt. “I read that they’ve got one of those events around here where everyone goes swimming in the middle of winter.”

He might never know what it is he finds so rewarding about Ryeowook’s rapt attention. He soaked it up anyway. “Oh? Did you want to do something like that?” Ryeowook asked with a tilt of his head.

“No,” Henry said with a shiver. “Once ever was plenty for me.”

“That’s smart.” Ryeowook looked at him with gentle affection, all soft eyes and soft smile as he kicked the bench leg with the back of his foot. “You could get sick like that. I wouldn’t want to do it either.”

“I can be smart sometimes.” Henry grinned, scooting closer while a lurch-rattle-lurch-rattle sort of wooden sound filtered into his awareness.

“Sometimes,” Ryeowook agreed as the sound died down. Henry bumped his shoulder with his own. The laughter he got wasn’t quite like a wind chime, but it soothed him all the same. He then nudged Ryeowook with his elbow.

“Hey, you gonna win me something around here? I know you’re a good shot.”

“Flatterer,” Ryeowook teased. “I don’t want to carry anything around all day, and-“ Donghae’s displeasure could already be heard as he shuffled his way towards them.

“I dooooon’t feel gooooooood.” Donghae's wobbling and exaggerated frown earned him no sympathy. Instead, they both pointed out that he was the one who insisted on going and now he was complaining, which in turn only got more whining from him. “It was really fast!”

Henry grinned. “Sorry you’re not feeling well,” he said with a mock-sympathetic pat to Donghae’s shoulder. “Guess we’ll have to eat funnel cake without you.”

Right away, Donghae perked up. “Cake? There’s cake?” Ryeowook laughed and gave him a quick side hug, pulling Donghae to walk with him. Not too fast.

Henry tried not to look at them _too_ often, he really did, though who could blame him for basking in the good times? Seeing Ryeowook without tension in the corner of his eyes and a stiff smile, Donghae not wound into a tight coil beneath a cheery attitude… _That_ was priceless, no matter how many times he’d been witness to it already.

As for the cake, he came upon it easily enough, not so much stepping forward to handle the transaction, but rather Ryeowook and Donghae silently hanging back to make it obvious that that’s what was going to happen.

Heh. That just meant he got the first bite. _Suckers._

After that, he ripped off a piece as he walked, holding it up to Ryeowook’s mouth, who opened up smoothly, as if he’d been expecting that. Donghae ripped off a big chunk from the unbitten side. He wasn’t usually much of a sharer, especially with cake, which made it surprising that this time, he also got Ryeowook to eat a little piece that he tore off his own portion. It all happened with the flow of those who long since didn’t need words for every little thing. They walked around aimlessly, tranquil in the midst of all the noise.

Then he saw it - the candy shop. Stopping in front of it, he looked and looked and looked, rationality holding impulse by the collar. Back home, it was an easier thing, in some ways. Impulse broke loose. He bought a giant gummy bear, Ryeowook snickering into his hand as they walked out of the store.

“Are you really going to eat that?” he asked, sounding not reprimanding but disbelieving. Also, still snickering at him.

“You think I can’t?” Henry raised his eyebrows, then his chin, pursing his mouth and opening his eyes until he must’ve looked absolutely ridiculous. Which was the point. Ryeowook smirked.

“If you want a stomachache, help yourself.”

Bringing his head back down, Henry glared at him, waving his oversized gummy bear on a stick menacingly in his general direction. No point in admitting he might be right - where's the fun in that?

“I’ll eat one of the ears,” Donghae said, grabbing Henry’s wrist to bring it closer. Henry had started to agree when Donghae chomped off that whole bit at once.

“Help… yourself,” he said, weakly and too late to matter.

The three of them strolled some more, Donghae chewing for a long time. At least, he still was each time Henry looked over at him, his expression slowly turning from pleased to stubborn.

“It doesn’t look like a lot, but it’s too much. I’m done. No one can eat that much,” Donghae asserted at last, looking a bit sickened.

“Quitter!” Henry shot at him through his own mouthful of gummy. To his right, Ryeowook snickered again, disguising it poorly by turning his head away, pretending to be riveted by a display of t-shirts. Henry felt, as he had countless times already, that he was too fond of him for his own good.

They saw dancing, juggling, some kind of acrobatics? And other stuff that passed from his mind within minutes, all of it with the steadily-shrinking gummy bear as his third steadfast companion. And yet. And yet… No matter how many (or few) people he talked to, or bumped into, or gave passing smiles to or shared a fleeting moment of joy with, the feeling of being apart from the world in some way never fully dissipated. It was a shitty feeling, one he wanted no part of.

Sour moods weren’t allowed. Especially, he thought as he looked at his hand for a moment, not when he’s almost won.

He grimaced, shoved the remaining handful - it might’ve been part of a gummy bear tummy before, if the stick was any guide - into his mouth, and caught up to Donghae to headbutt his back. It got his attention long enough to be subjected to what was probably a horrifying smile, full of chunks of unnaturally bright red.

Donghae shoved him and called him gross, laughing all the while. Pleased with the attention, Henry kept making faces until Donghae turned away, pulling him along by his wrist.

Of course, they ended up at the aquarium, which at least was a pleasant, relaxing experience. Okay, yeah, it would’ve been more of one if he hadn’t been insisting on proving that he _could_ eat a pound of gummy bear, naysaying boyfriends be damned. And judgmental-looking fish, too, he thought as he glared back at them. (The birds didn’t seem so judgmental. They got a nod of respect; he was _sure_ one of them returned it.) He wasn’t feeling too hot by the time they left, but he’d proven a point _and_ fulfilled a childhood dream, so who’s the real winner?

Never mind. The next thing on the list was a bike ride. His six-year-old self wasn’t going to get a say anymore; his stomach couldn’t take that.

Ryeowook patted his arm sympathetically. “At least you didn’t go on the rollercoaster.”

“Please don’t make me think about that right now,” Henry groaned.

*

Back in the heart of the city. They were surrounded by people, yet still in their own little bubble. It's liberating. It's sharp-elbowed paradise, walking slow enough to annoy passersby, his fingers curled around Ryeowook's one minute, interlaced with Donghae's the next, though only for a second each. He wasn’t careless. Still, getting lost in the crowd had never felt better. (Funny how the same situation could look completely different with a change of attitude. All it took was some handholding.)

A living wall of people out there and not a single one of them cared about him or what he did. Normally, that’d sting a little, but not here.

Couldn’t, when it was such a relief.

The busy streets seemed to go on forever. Of course, they didn't in reality, the trees no longer a distant sight. Relaxing happened soon after, surprising him with the distinct feeling of a _shift_ inside.

He breathed deep.

The three of them made their way towards the crowd of people around the bicycle rental counter closest to where they entered. Henry swiveled his head around to try to find some sign that this was the right corner of the park, only then realizing that he didn't know which one they were supposed to be in, nor did it make a difference, most likely. He vowed to redouble his efforts to set aside his worries for the _entire_ day. That's what vacations are _for_.

Anyway, they found the bike counter. That wasn’t the problem anymore.

Not only was it crowded - that was how they found it, ultimately. By the time they’d reached the… line? Or whatever the disorderly crowd would be called, they’d already heard three people complaining about the bikes here - and heard the bikes complaining _for_ them with screeching that could put demonic birds to shame. He looked at Ryeowook, who in turn looked at the crowded tiny counter, crossed his arms, turned to Donghae and said, “This doesn’t look like fun at all, does it.”

Donghae gave a rueful smile and shook his head. “Not at all.”

“Wanna walk around for a while instead?” So far, Henry hadn’t seen anyone else pull off that tone, how Ryeowook said the words almost spitefully without quite being mean. Hard to pin down or describe, and gave him a strange happy feeling that came bubbling out as a chortle, that was Ryeowook all over.

Donghae fiddled with the zipper of his jacket, though he didn’t zip it up further than halfway, even as the wind kicked up right then. “That sounds good,” he said, measured and thoughtful. “What’s there to eat?”

Letting out a triumphant “ha!”, his chin held high, Henry only had to say “That’s my specialty” to know that they were following him. He stuck his hands further into his pockets, wriggling his fingers to poke at stray receipts left in there while he started his walking search.

“Snacking already?” Ryeowook said _right_ behind him, startling him. “That’s not a good idea. I can’t believe you’re hungry so soon.”

Henry turned around to walk backwards in front him, beaming unabashedly and purposely going at an annoyingly slow pace. Laughing at him, Ryeowook pushed at his shoulder. Just for that, Henry windmilled his arms, pretending to have lost his balance. Donghae rushed forward to envelop him in a hug.

“I got you!” he yelled, leaping right in to play along.

“My hero!” Henry clung on tighter. “How can I ever repay you?”

“The only reward I ask for,” Donghae said in a lofty voice, “is your gratitude. And a snack.”

They let go at the same time. Right as Henry spun around, he spotted the snack cart. “Fuck yeah, pretzels!” The gummy bear misadventure behind him, he was excited at the prospect of a giant pretzel. Life was _good._

“I’ll get them.” Donghae’s tone brooked no argument. No point in arguing, really. Shrugging, Henry turned to Ryeowook, the two of them sharing that same expression for a second as if by telepathy, bemused, accepting, and fond all at once.

“He did this before, too,” Henry said as though sharing a secret and not the fifth repetition of the same story. "Before you came back. I still don’t know why. You don’t think I broke my promise, do you?”

Ryeowook took one step closer. “Of course I don’t,” he said, with kindness not only in his voice but radiating from his entire being, wholly and intensely in a way that had yet to completely cease to melt Henry’s insides into goo. “You did so well. You always do, and I’m proud of you.”

“Hey, don’t get teary on me now,” Henry teased, knowing full well no such thing was happening. He rested his bent arm on Ryeowook’s shoulder for good measure. Sure, that was just because he could, so what?

“I’m not!” Ryeowook protested, though not shaking him off this time around.

Just then, Donghae broke them apart anyway, pushing one of the pretzels at Ryeowook until he took it. “You take this one. You haven’t eaten much,” Donghae said insistently, preempting any complaining. In a complete turnaround, Ryeowook nodded meekly, taking it and biting off a piece without another word.

 _Something_ weird _was going on with them,_ Henry thought. Interrupting that was a prodding against his chin, the thought gone as soon as he saw Donghae’s overconfident grin.

“Think you can beat me this time?”

“You’re on.”

Staring contests weren’t the most mature tradition, to be sure, but it’d become theirs. Donghae had kept up a three-round winning steak; Henry wanted to end his reign of snack theft. He glared, not only to intimidate his opponent (even though that never seemed to work) but also because he could stare longer that way.

Donghae pinched him. Hard.

“Ow!” While Henry groaned and rubbed his side, an entire arch of bread disappeared into the snack thief’s hungry maw. “Lousy, dirty cheater!”

Not the slightest bit remorseful, Donghae grinned even wider around his full mouth. Before Henry could steal some, Donghae ripped off a chunk and shoved it in his mouth. More confused than mollified, Henry offered him a muffled “Thanks, I guess.” Then a still-grinning Donghae shoved in a second chunk before Henry was done with the first. His mouth too full to complain properly, Henry settled for a retaliatory shove. (Being in public limited his options.)

“Hyung, stop that,” Ryeowook said, but he was laughing through that and after, so he clearly wasn’t taking Henry’s plight seriously at all. Once they’d settled down, Ryeowook called their attention to him, inclining his head a certain way that could only mean for them to follow.

Comfortable silence was a weird phrase when not in the middle of experiencing it. It didn’t make sense on its own - what, exactly, was comfortable? However, walking in this park, right now, beauty all around him, including his long-familiar companions, it made perfect sense because it could be _felt._

Heading mostly south for who knows how long, the air was crisp and time seemed meaningless.

Ryeowook suddenly said, “There's an app with a guide-“ The rest of his words were drowned out by Henry and Donghae's simultaneous groans of protest.

“Enough guides!” Donghae said, exasperation written all over his face even more clearly than in his words. “You don't need to use one every time we go somewhere.”

“Let's just enjoy the walk,” Henry said more calmly. “The colors of the leaves are beautiful, aren't they?” They really were, too, all shades of red, yellow and brown as far as the eye could see, the trees forming a sort of canopy over the wide path. Patches of leaves clustered around the edges. The river of people flowed around them while they'd been stopped, a soft buzz of conversation mixed with the occasional shriek of delight. Ryeowook put his phone away, screwing up the corner of his mouth as he methodically closed the case, twice checking that it stayed shut before putting it away.

 _Here we go_ , Henry thought, tense with apprehension. Surprising him, Ryeowook wound his arm around Henry's own; he couldn't help the smile that overtook him, or the flutter in his chest. They went at a sedate pace, comfortably silent once more, and he let himself be led. Another something pushed insistently against his mouth. He crossed his eyes to see that it was yet another piece of pretzel, though as soon as he realized that it was Ryeowook doing the pushing, he darted his mouth forward to grab it. Somehow, it set him at ease.

“Hey! You almost bit my finger!” Ryeowook whined.

Henry tried to tease him, but all that came out was “orghf-“

“Swallow first!” Firm, but didn’t sound upset at all. What he wouldn’t give to be able to press up against him right now.

From his other side, Donghae's weak chuckle caught his attention for some reason. He chewed. Didn’t get anywhere, though. Whatever, all he needed to do was relax and not overthink anything, and he knew what always worked for him.

Pretzel successfully eaten, he finally got to say, “I’ll bite you wherever you’d like.” Ryeowook snorted, which was as good of a reaction as he could expect. Donghae laughed a fuller laugh than before. That alone felt like a victory.

“What was that? You’re so weird,” Donghae said.

“Jealous?” Henry shot back.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” Donghae smirked, his shoulders rising and moving farther apart, radiating the self-assurance that he wore so well. _Fuck yeah. That’s more like it._

“We’ll see about that.” Henry hadn’t even finished his sentence when Donghae elbowed him. Laughing amicably, they let the conversation, or what little of it there was, fall away naturally. Not a snipping of the thread but reaching the end of a row. He’d almost forgotten the joy of enjoying simple pleasures together.

How often did he get to walk so peacefully like this? When was the last time? It seemed like forever since he didn’t have to rush anywhere, though that couldn’t actually be true. A few minutes of strolling later, as he watched the wind pushing a leaf across the path, a low sound caught his attention.

“Hm?” He said, in case it’d been a voice after all.

“At first, when I was reading about the park, I saw the name, Poet's Walk,” Ryeowook said with a casual air, still facing forward and keeping them moving, “and I thought, how romantic! Poets walked here for inspiration, so it must be beautiful! But, it's only called that because there's a statue of a poet.” Henry hummed to show that he was listening. “Still, it _is_ quite lovely, isn't it?”

“I like it,” Donghae chimed in. "There must've been some poets who got inspired by it." Going at a sedate pace, he looked off to one side most of the time, his expression unusually unreadable when he stared ahead instead.

He didn't look particularly inspired himself.

"Donghae-hyung, did you sleep alright?" Henry ventured to ask.

"It was fine," Donghae said, though he didn't sound all there. Setting his trademark grin in place, he added, "I could always use more."

Ryeowook clicked his tongue. "You could sleep for a week and you'd still say that," he said, his tone amused and indulgent. Henry squeezed his arm where it was still wrapped around his own. In that moment, he was happy in a way nothing else in the world could make him feel.

Eventually, Ryeowook let go of Henry’s arm, though slowly, like he didn’t quite want to yet. A hop away later, he threw his arms out and spun around in a circle, then another, moving farther with each one until he smacked his hand into a bench. He cradled his hand, looking back at them with a betrayed face.

“You’re cute,” Henry said to him, which only made him look more deeply betrayed.

Donghae took Ryeowook under the shelter of his arm. With him between them, they walked and chattered about work and space and clothes and robots, which got into some kind of argument about movies that Henry didn’t quite follow. However, his eyes _did_ follow a row of bright pink cloud spheres, stirring in him outsized excitement.

Neither Donghae nor Ryeowook noticed he’d left until he came back with a ball of cotton candy balanced on a paper cone in his hand, barbershop stripes spiraling down its thin length. He’d only noticed that the colors while eagerly watching it being spun, bouncing where he’d stood. Bright, happy colors tended to draw him in. In a flash of memory, connected from the one of the bright blue, he wistfully recalled Ryeowook’s short-lived pale purple hair, then realized that that must’ve been _seven years ago._ He quickly dropped the thought because it felt too weird.

The first small lick was a glimpse of heaven.

Free. It’s not the cotton candy itself - he could get that anywhere. He felt free, right here and now. He moaned as the texture registered, eyes rolling back. The bagged stuff never compares to fresh.

He found himself being stared at like he stared at the cotton candy machine, so he made the biggest, toothiest smile he could manage. Worked like a charm. Tone changed, he tilts the cone towards his bewildered boyfriends, who’ve long since stopped whatever minor feud they’d conjured up.

For once, Ryeowook stepped up first, licking at the giant puff. “Buh, too sweet!” he said with a grimace.

“How sweet it is to be loved by you,” Henry sang, then immediately ate a chunk of cotton candy, sighing happily as the sugar coated his tongue. Donghae’s bark of laughter mixed with Ryeowook’s closer giggling. It was Ryeowook’s arm winding around his upper back, squeezing his ribs, that distracted Henry long enough for Donghae to devour half of what was left. “Hyu _u_ ng!” He whined, but it was a token protest, and they all knew it, too.

Moving on. They walked on, past clusters of people and neatly-spaced trees, onto a bridge over a small lake. Relatively small. Maybe? It stretched out far enough that he wasn’t sure. Unknowingly, they didn’t break the patch of quietude until they were on the other side.

“You blocked out a big chunk of time for being here,” Henry started, noting statues as they passed without really looking at them. One had so many kids climbing all over it, shrieking and laughing, that he couldn't tell what it was a statue of in the first place. “Since we’re not doing the tour, what do you want to do?”

Ryeowook visibly hesitated. “Well…” Uncounted time passed, the shrieks growing fainter and fainter as they moved further away. “Honestly, I’d like to lie down somewhere.”

“I’ll find a good spot,” Donghae said, then jogged ahead up the path.

*

"I've been dumped for being boring before."

Finding that still having his legs tangled up with Donghae's from their impromptu wrestling match was, surprise surprise, making it difficult for Henry to move, he ungracefully extracted himself. Part of that was Donghae’s fault - Henry had tried to slide his ankle out from between Donghae’s, but found it gripped tightly and then, as he tugged, suddenly _not_. Face down in the grass, he rolled over onto his back in the same direction so that he was close enough to hear Ryeowook and also didn’t have to move more. "Come again? You said boring?"

Ryeowook made an "eung" sound without continuing, and Henry could see his chest rising and falling out of the corner of his eye. Broken-up bits of surrounding conversations filled the seconds before he repeated himself.

"I've been dumped for being boring," he said in a tone more suited to talking about the weather, arms bent above his head, using his hands as a makeshift pillow.

"Who was it? Should I beat him up?" Donghae neary yelled, sounding more than affronted enough on Ryeowook's behalf, which was strangely endearing. Ryeowook laughed.

"Don't do that." The words that didn’t follow seemed much louder, though.

"That’s too mean. You know it's not true, right?" Henry said, his voice betraying all the heartsickness he felt at the notion. He _hated_ feeling laid bare like that. _Damnit._

"Hm. Is that right? Anyway, when it was once, I got over it okay, but when it happened twice, I started to wonder if it’s true.”

"It's not," Henry said firmly, not wanting the thought to take hold. ""They're not the ones who have to jump off things or eat weird condiments all the time.” A dry chuckle came from his left.  “You like things calm. That makes you a good home to come back to."

As Ryeowook sighed contently, Henry let his head fall to the side to watch him shifting around out of the corner of his eye. No reason to it, just... wanting to look. "You're too sweet."

Out of some ingrained reflex, Henry caught Donghae’s wrist, not that he had any idea what Donghae would try to do. His good-natured grin revealed nothing. With a furtive squeeze, Henry let him go, his unasked question answered when Donghae dropped to rest his head on his lower thigh.

He squeezed his hand into a fist to cut off what should’ve been, what _is_ a perfectly harmless impulse. A tendril of deep anger broke its way through inside him at how _this_ type of touch is okay to be seen and _that_ kind isn’t and the utterly nonsensical limits, but he was well-practiced at pushing it back down. He rested his hand over the top of Donghae’s head; it’d have to be enough.

“I wish we had time to go up past the border and see my folks,” he said, grasping at the first thought that would pull him back out.

Ryeowook gasped, sat up, partially leaned over Henry as he said, “I’m so sorry! I didn’t even think about that!” Henry waved it off easily.

“Nah, it’s fine, I’ll carve out some time to go in winter. Spend Christmas with the family, if I can.”

“Go,” Donghae said. “You haven’t gone in a long time.”

 Henry closed his eyes. He couldn’t face that right now. “I will, I will. Don’t worry.”

“I mean it,” Donghae said forcefully. _Not looking not looking **not looking**._ If there was one thing Henry had learned, it was that Donghae knew perfectly well that his eyes were a force to be reckoned with.

“You know it’s not completely up to me,” Henry replied without any force of his own. Donghae sighed, clearly letting it drop when he didn’t say anything more. Unexpectedly, Henry found himself grappling with a sudden feeling of something irretrievable slipping away. “Anyway, I saw my brother… hm, earlier this year, and my mom visited last month, remember? So it’ll be fine.”

More by a mutual intuition than any sort of agreement, they all started getting up at nearly the same time, a chilling gust of wind starting up as if to push them onwards. There was a restaurant they passed on their way out, or more like through until they could find a way out, with strings of lights artfully strewn around the outside seating area.

“Should we eat here?” Donghae asked as he stopped on the path. Not that it wasn’t tempting, but…

“Nah, I went to this place last time I was here. I don’t feel like anything that upscale. Street food is the way to go!”

“Alright, if you’re so sure,” Donghae said, made it sound like a challenge even as he ruffled Henry’s hair.

“Quit that!” Henry fended him off while laughing. He fixed his hair as he assured Dognhae, “You can get a mountain of food. I promise.”

“Lead the way,” Ryeowook said, plucking a leaf off his shoulder. Henry held back to let him catch up, throwing an arm around his shoulders.

“Your knee okay?” he said, careful to be quiet. Ryeowook was sensitive about that sort of thing.

“Yeah, it was fine without going on any hills,” he said just as quietly.

“We took it easy for you,” Henry said, exaggerated confidence on his face, in the sure set to his mouth and his narrowed eyes, nodding as if to reinforce his assertion. For his troubles, he got elbowed in the ribs. “Hey! You should appreciate my generosity,” he insisted in a mock-haughty voice.

“Brat.”

Then Donghae started thwacking Henry’s face with a large leaf and complaining about being hungry.

*

Though his stomach protested the delay, he was on vacation, which meant they had time to get _good_ , simple food. He got a gut feeling - ha! - that there was something really good out there. When he spotted an impressively long line, he knew that was the ticket.

“I’m going there,” he calls back over his shoulder. “You can wait with me or I’ll pick something for you.”

Continuing this backwards process, maybe due to not seeing this as his domain no matter how many times he’d visited, Ryeowook waved at him with a sweet smile, one with a hint of teeth showing. Donghae gave him a thumbs up. Shrugging, Henry left them sitting on the base of some… statue? Sign? He didn’t look too closely. Doesn’t matter. Not like he couldn’t pick them out of a crowd anyway.

“Traveling’s a lot nicer when I can do whatever I want,” he said out loud for some reason as he found his way to the back of the line. Oh, right, he forgot he was by himself right now. Other than one confused look that he refused to acknowledge with eye contact, he was thankfully ignored, which he hadn’t yet settled on how to feel about. Still, he could smell the spices already, and thought he could hear sizzling. His stomach gurgled. The bright red-and-yellow umbrellas kept his focus somehow. _Shit,_ a gyro sandwich sounded so good right now.

Knowing that Donghae would always ask for one more dish than anyone else thought to get for him (not that it wasn’t cute to see him insist, because it _really really was_ ), he decided on the two item platter and got some fries to split. No way would he hearing any complaints.

Fidget. Fidgetfidget _finally_ moving forward again. Was time slowed down or was he sped up? Smelling everyone else’s food was agony.

 **There**. Teetering in his hands were a giant platter that kind of looked like a deep dish pie tin and could probably feed four people, two sandwiches, and a box of fries balanced on top.

“Whoa!” Donghae had just the reaction Henry had hoped for from him, eagerly - and messily - digging in, while Ryeowook worked the foil off of his and hadn’t yet reached the prize. In the meantime, Henry stuffed as many fries into his mouth as would fit because he’d yet to find ones still worth eating once they’d gone cold, then prodded Donghae’s mouth with another handful until he opened up.

Mission accomplished.

Soon after, he got a real treat while he licked up a spot of sauce. (He got extra on his and was _not_ disappointed.) Delighted might’ve been the only way to describe Ryeowook’s expression - not the one he made on shows, though the effect of his wide eyes and mouth in an “o” was a force to be reckoned with all its own, but _this_ , eyes closed, lips parted the way he almost never lets himself do with a mouthful of food, a groan that bordered on obscene. Chatter, honking, bright colors and patterns, the mass of motion, it all fell away to an undifferentiated drone, leaving only them on an island of their own.

In three short breaths, the world filtered back in around him, though he found it hard to care. Warmth suffused his body from the center out; he was sure, right then, that there was no one luckier in the entire world.

The wind must’ve been drying out his eyes, since they suddenly felt a bit damp.

 _That_ daydream hit him again, the one that, ironically enough, started up not long after asserting that his personal space was, indeed, _his_ alone. It was the one about going on like this forever, visions of years compressed into microseconds, staying with his loves, building a quiet life together… He swallowed hard. No, that was too far ahead and they were on constantly shaky ground. Though he wouldn’t trade it for anything, the fact remained that no one could tell what the future held, especially not for them.

So instead, he let the images vanish with a quick shake of his head, patted his chest and coughed a couple of times.

“Did you eat too much?” Ryeowook asked him with a rueful grin. He’d finished first, fishing a wet wipe seemingly out of nowhere. His fingers were hypnotizing, making an entirely different kind of image spring to mind, regardless of how appropriate it wasn’t. And then it expanded. And then-

Without waiting for an answer that wasn’t coming, Ryeowook clicked open his phone case, tapped and swiped at his phone with the joints of his bent fingers. “Ready when you are.”

Henry snapped out of- something. At nearly the same time, he and Donghae stuffed the last bit into their respective mouths, sharing a big-cheeked grin. He remembered to finish chewing before he said, “Lead the way.”

*

The observatory deck was on the 102nd floor. _That’s a fuckton of floors._

“You don’t feel weird being this high up?” Donghae asked as if reading his mind, though the question wasn’t directed at him, as it turned out.

“We’re in a building, so it’s fine,” Ryeowook said, literally waving away the concern. “Anyway, I wanted to go at sunset, but then we might be late. The guide I read said that it’s less crowded around dinnertime, but we’re a little short so that we stay on schedule.” He looked quite pleased with himself, leaning onto a metal grate in front of one of the windows. It was clear enough for a good view of an unthinkable number of buildings crammed together, and late enough that a few of them had their lights on, a strangely pleasant, kind of cozy sight as they walked in a slow circle.

“You’re okay that I’m not going tonight?” Donghae asked in a flat voice, on the edge of hoarse; that one meant _really worried_ , and something else Henry hadn’t figured out yet. Frustrating him further was that he _almost_ had the pattern. But only almost.

“Of course it’s okay,” Ryeowook said in a comforting tone. “Go find something good to eat - anything you want, even that weird fried thing, since I don’t have to watch you eat it,” he continued, his lip curling and an indent forming between his eyebrows, which made Donghae laugh big and bright. “Enjoy yourself, make friends, and then rest up.”

“Okay,” Donghae said, affectionate and excited, somehow packing that into a mere couple of syllables. They both sounded sweet and _happy_ , and that alone was wonderful beyond words. “I’ll send you video. It’s good to broaden your horizons,” he continued, failing to look innocent.

“I said I don’t want to see you eat it!” Ryeowook complained, smacking Donghae’s arm, whose croaking, wheezing laughter only got louder for it. “I’m serious! It’s gross!”

*

Henry flicked through channels while he waited. First, a game show, for the ten seconds it took to realize it was gonna be boring, three commercials, then what looked like a really old movie. He was trying to see if he recognized it. Hm, no, it just looked a lot like other movies, which was good enough to pass the time until a piercing shriek came out of the TV.

“Turn that off!” Donghae grumbled. Henry did, instead watching Donghae shift around next to him, rolling onto one side and then the other in quick succession, then pawing around over the side of the bed until he grabbed hold of one of the half-finished bags he left there, dragging it into his fluffy lair with annoying crinkling sounds.

“Hyung, what’s wrong?” Henry asked. No answer. Sighing at Donghae’s mood flip, he pushed himself up off the bed, patting his pockets to make sure he had everything.

A click of the bathroom light later, Ryeowook came into view, made up and ready to go. He’d dressed up a bit, layered and warm in muted colors, topped off with a blazer. His face looked smoother than usual, too. _Must’ve shaved at least three times,_ Henry thought. That was kind of sweet. Sort of like a date.

"Honey," he started, then stopped because he can't believe that word came out of his mouth. He shook it off.

Ryeowook was smiling at him patiently, leaning his weight on one hip and giving the distinct impression that he expected to deal with something unexpected. Guilt churned in Henry's gut, though he had no intention of being troublesome. His tone of voice just came out wrong sometimes. "You look amazing."

That was all it took for Ryeowook's face to brighten into a full frontal charm assault, all gleaming teeth and sparkling eyes crinkling at the corners as he almost shyly laced his own fingers together.

The distance between them turned unbearable.

In a few long strides, or maybe his only seemed long by comparison, Henry had crossed the length of the small room. His fingers curved of their own accord, he tilted Ryeowook's chin up, leaning that little bit down to press their mouths together softly. Sliding together smooth and easy, he caught a distinctly sweet whiff of pomegranate. With a chuckle, he pulled back, though he took his time doing so, savoring the remnants of sensation as the moment stretched on.

"I can't believe _you_ forgot lip balm."

"I didn't forget!" Ryeowook protested indignantly, insistent on his version of events. His _obviously wrong_ version. "It must've fallen out somewhere!"

"Sure," Henry murmured, moving in for another gentle kiss. At this rate, he wouldn't want to leave the room at all. Their breath synchronized in long, slow contentment, the combined sigh sounding all the stronger for it. “Incredible,” he finally said.

“I’ve worn this outfit _at least_ five times,” Ryeowook said, looking both amused and embarrassed.

“Every time,” Henry insisted, trailing his fingers down Ryeowook’s neck to his collar, down to the placket, tracing over the edge of a button as Ryeowook looked on, his expression settling on amused. They locked eyes while Henry flattened his hand over Ryeowook’s chest, his touch descending in a smooth path until it hit his belt. He slipped his fingers into Ryeowook’s pocket. They both burst out in choked laughter when he wiggled his fingers around, Ryeowook grabbing his wrist in a tight hold.

“Don’t-” he chuckled. “Don’t take my wallet. It’s not yours.” Henry pouted and tried to look disappointed while his shoulders still shook with silent amusement.

“Damn. There goes my whole plan. _Years_ wasted, all for nothing,” he said with a grin.

“Yeah, yeah. Come on, gum thief, let’s get going.”

Donghae, surprisingly quiet until now, whined from his blanket nest before they could even get their shoes on.

“Hm? I thought you didn’t want to go to this one?” Ryeowook asked, turning towards a tuft of hair sticking out. Half the blanket was flung forward, revealing Donghae’s sad eyes and rumpled t-shirt. He shook his head.

“I don’t. Just. Stay with me another minute?”

“Sure. We’ve got time,” Ryeowook said like he nearly always did when Donghae was the one asking. He propped himself up against the headboard, moving to trace one of Donghae’s eyebrows with the tip of his index finger after Henry bounced onto the bed. Since he was dressed more casually, Henry saw no problem with draping himself over most of Donghae, cheek resting on his chest. Smushed, but a good smushed.

“Don’t just stay in here, hm? You should go out too. You make friends easy as breathing,” Ryeowook said, an undercurrent of amusement in his words. Donghae said nothing for a few seconds, only leaning into Ryeowook’s touch.

“You won’t leave me, right?” Tentative and quiet, the way he said that never got less heartrending.

“As long as it’s within my power, I won’t,” Ryeowook said with conviction. Left without words, Henry could only hug Donghae as tightly as possible, who seemed to relax in his hold.

“Thanks,” Donghae said, still quiet. “I’ll go out,” he continued, louder and a touch raspy. “I’m gonna check out the gym here first.” Henry and Ryeowook glance at each other worriedly, just as quickly looking away. “Then I’ll shower. Tell me when you’re done.”

“Sorry you’ll have to do that all alone,” Ryeowook said, not sounding contrite at all.

“I’m not,” Henry added, which got him a weak laugh or two. He wasn’t upset. The words didn’t seem to matter all that much anyway. A quick shock of cold air got in when Donghae’s hands pulled up the back of his sweater to rest on the exposed patch of skin.

In the ensuing quiet, Ryeowook switched to playing with Donghae’s bangs by flicking the ends up and letting them fall, over and over. “Your hair’s getting pretty long,” he said almost casually, but a lick of flame crept in when he continued. “It looks good.”

“It does,” Henry agreed, nuzzling Donghae’s chest until he laughed. He liked where this was going; he was even getting tempted to join that shower.

“We’ll be back soon,” Ryeowook said. _So much for that._ “Love you.” He pecked Donghae’s cheek.

“Love you,” Henry also said, reluctantly getting up, pressing a peck of his own onto Donghae’s chin. While he rolled off the bed, Donghae mumbled something unintelligible. That must’ve been a reply. Henry squeezed Donghae’s hand in acknowledgment, already looking ahead. He scrambled to get his shoes on, and then Ryeowook still looked great standing there waiting, so Henry held his shoulders and kissed him again while he wiggled his feet to get them the rest of the way into his shoes.

Done!

“Love you,” Henry said, the “v” and the “y” slurring together, making it almost one word, though he didn’t _feel_ hurried. Ryeowook gazed at him warmly. Wow, he really must’ve left a big buffer of time to be so calm.

“Love you too,” he enunciated carefully. “Ah, wait here,” he said the same way, then peeked back around the corner to the bed, dropping back into tight-throated sounds and forceful consonants. “I’m not going to leave. But… you’re allowed to.”

Everything was silent and still for a moment. The expected outburst never came. Odd that there wasn’t a clock ticking to count off the silence; it would’ve fit the intensity smothering the room. No, what really took up all the air was the painful acknowledgment that’d just traveled through it. Now it’d been put into words, the strand sticking loose from their tapestry, and Henry could only feel glad that he wasn’t the one who had to do it. Then he felt bad for feeling that. Sick to his stomach, in fact.

“Have a good time,” Donghae finally said.

_Oh._

When Ryeowook turned to him, his smile was sad and unsure, but he still put his hand on Henry’s arm to nudge him out the door. “Come on, I don’t want to be late.”

If Henry answered in any way, he wasn’t aware of it. This time, they walked through the hallway in gloomy silence. Unsettling how deserted it was just when any distraction would've been welcome. The click of pushing the button was too loud.

The elevator seemed like it would never come, leaving them trapped in limbo. Dispelling the illusion, the doors opened at last, and it was lucky, or fitting, that the car, too, was empty.

Right when the doors closed all the way, he saw his blurry reflection. _Is Donghae unhappy? With... us? Why? How long?_ His eyes refocused, and he pulled himself away from the inescapable implications of what happened. “You're very kind,” he said in as steady of a voice as he could manage, his fingers bending and stretching aimlessly.

“Just honest,” Ryeowook said in a flat tone. He stared off to the side, hunched in on himself. Not a trace of his usual regal bearing from dressing up nicely remained, not shoulders spread wide nor chin held high, his hands hidden in his pockets.

Guilt came back for a second round to bruise Henry’s insides. He threw his arm over Ryeowook's shoulders, kept it there over his tense muscles. It didn’t make him feel any less adrift.

“How did you know?”

“He’s restless. He’s always restless when he’s unhappy, even moreso when he knows he might hurt someone.”

“…Yeah, you’re right.” He thought for another moment, realizing how pathetic it was that he wished Donghae’d gotten angry. Because that would’ve meant it wasn’t true. Ryeowook didn’t interrupt him, not even to gloat. _Duh. Idiot. Of course he’s not gonna be happy about this._ “Did you know this would happen?” And then he asked the most insensitive thing his filter-free brain could come up with. Great.

“I wasn’t sure,” Ryeowook hedged, pressing his lips together so hard that they nearly disappeared. Taking that blunder in stride was a testament to how thrown off he must’ve been as well. One second. Two. “I thought there was a chance,” he admitted at last.

“Ah.” Good, neutral like he wanted. Now was his best shot at finding out something he’d never gotten a clear answer on. This was a bad time, the _worst_ time, but he was nothing if not a little reckless, heady with adrenaline as soon as he’d thought of it. His grip tightened, and he pulled Ryeowook closer to try to show that he meant no harm when he asked, carefully affecting casual and curious, “Why did you ask him to stay in the first place?”

“Because I want him,” Ryeowook ground out, wrenching himself out of Henry’s hold, eyes ablaze. He caught himself, squeezed his eyes shut, took a deep breath. “Don’t you?”

“God yes.” No surprise that it really _was_ that simple; feelings don’t care about plans or reason. Henry leaned into the wall, the material scratching at the exposed patch of his forearm raised high. “But don’t take that out on me.”

Really, he wasn’t mad. If anything, he desperately wanted to offer more comfort than he could give, to touch again, to reassure himself of the connection that was - he hoped - unfrayed, now that he’d gotten- whatever that was out of his system. He bounced on his toes, restless. Every bit of him screamed to run back up and demand answers.

His stomach clenched. _Not again_ , he thought.

The blip of adrenaline faded away. The hums and clanks of the elevator went on, heedless of the tension. He gets that these slow ones in the nicer hotels are so that it’s a comfortable ride, but he’d also like to make it outside sometime this century. _Stuffy in here._ He put his arm down, looked around awkwardly.

Though it didn’t seem possible, Ryeowook’s shoulders slumped further. He looked at his feet. “Donghae is fragile.”

Unspoken was, _You’re not._ Hell of a turnaround, that was. Maybe it was _You’re not, anymore._ Henry stared relentlessly until Ryeowook mumbled out an apology.

“Mm.” That was all the acknowledgement he would give; Ryeowook got snappish when he felt cornered, a known issue and a work in progress. Funny that he’d literally put himself in the corner when he’d jerked away. “I couldn’t do what you did,” Henry offered in return, one weakness for another. He took Ryeowook’s hand, fully expecting to be shaken off; instead, he got to step closer until they were both in the back corner. “I couldn’t just say it like that, even if I knew.” _I couldn’t tell him to leave me._

With a squeeze, he wasn’t shaken off so much as gently released, almost in a forgetful way. Leaning back onto the bar protruding from the wall, he let his head tip back, staring up at the exactly six tiles on the ceiling with perfectly-centered lights in each one. He hoped that his stomach dropping was only because the elevator came to a halt. The doors opened several floors too early, and they were both soon stuck against the back wall by three times as many suitcases as people.

At least they were close enough to talk, which he found out when Ryeowook murmured, “I’m not that selfless.” He looked disappointed. With who or what, Henry wasn’t sure.

“ _No one_ is,” he countered with a wry grin, just as softly. Ryeowook barked out a laugh, though he quickly stifled it.

“That’s true,” Ryeowook said in a quiet voice as they stepped out into the lobby, rolling wheels clattering far ahead of them. “It’s just… I really think he’d be happier with his original plan. Doing things the usual way.”

Henry had nothing to say to that.

*

“I can’t believe you’re shelling out for a taxi! You always get on my case for spending too much,” he teased while rubbing Ryeowook’s shoulder almost absently (except that he was very aware of it, for some reason, the crackle of electric charge that’d been passing between them since they sat down).

Ryeowook haughtily fired back, “It’s a special occasion,” but then shot him a sideways look and a half smile, and they didn’t get closer but there was a palpable sense of wanting to.

“ _You're_ a special occasion.” Henry even threw in his best cheesy grin. _Delivery: flawless._

“Ah?” Ryeowook was giving him that one look, the combined confused, indulgent, and amused one, as though he was on the verge of laughter without quite knowing why. “Come again?”

 _Guess that was more romantic in my head._ "I mean, going out with you always feels like a special occasion to me," he tried again, dazzling Ryeowook with his brightest winning smile even as his hands itched with the thwarted need to touch. He threw in a wink to get the right effect.

How he loved Ryeowook's giggles, especially the helpless ones that he couldn't restrain, volatile pitch spiking up in jagged peaks.

“Who knows if we’ll get to do this again.” Fresh from the high of his laughter, the resignation in Ryeowook’s voice was all the more heartbreaking. He still expected the worst. He might be right to.

Henry didn’t feel right making promises he couldn’t know he could keep to reassure him, especially now, so all he said was, “With how full you packed our schedule, there won’t be anything left we haven’t done!” Trying to keep it light. _I wish I could make it not hurt for you._

Resting his clasped hands on his crossed legs, Ryeowook looked at him at a sideways sort of angle that gave the impression of not quite wanting to be seen, his expression fond and a bit sad.

Henry noticed then that he’d mirrored his pose. But he wouldn’t mirror the sadness. Falling into one of their routines, he sang a line about rainy skies from a song that was older than he wanted to think about, mangling the pronunciation horribly. Now laughing, though the sound was subdued, not quite the free-flowing burst of delight Henry had been hoping for, Ryeowook smacked him without any force to it, scoffing at him and demanding that he _do it right!_

“Hehe.” He didn’t, of course, shaking his head with defiant delight.

“Tch!” Really, that said it all. In unspoken understanding, they let the routine fall away there, this time.

The rest of the ride, they read signs to each other, pressed their thighs close together while they reviewed the next day’s plans, and didn’t hold hands once until they were comfortably settled in the darkness of the theater.

*

The rain had started falling a little before they made it back to the hotel. He found a couple of droplets from the sprint towards the awning still clinging to his hair when he ran his fingers through it. His mind wasn’t blank, exactly, but cycling through snippets of songs and scenes from TV shows and some ad he’d seen around like five million times and idle thoughts that didn’t need further attention.

There’d been something about bananas, he could swear, but it was gone already. Oh well. Couldn’t be that important.

On the elevator ride back up, gloom settled over them, clinging with sticky residue that would tickle the back of his throat if it were real. But, no, the only thing back there was words - ones he felt like he should know better than to give voice to even as he opened his mouth.

"You really mean it," Henry said, which was the stupidest thing to say right now, but the realization, or at least the full, messy extent of it, had been slow in coming. "He- wants out."

"I think so. I can't be sure," Ryeowook cautioned. "But, he's never been the one who wanted to end it before, so I don’t think he knows how."

"Let's not assume anything, okay?" It felt like pleading, as if agreeing would somehow make it true. Or not agreeing would stop the swirl of of signs that fit the theory floating to the surface of memory. Distant. Withdrawing. Excuse after excuse to not visit for way longer than usual. Even the hesitation to go on this trip in the first place, the sense of guilt and obligation that Donghae seemed to carry with him everywhere, alongside his sorrow. Henry pushed it all back. "It's not right to assume."

Ryeowook sighed before slowly nodding. "You're right. I won't be pushy about it. Let's enjoy ourselves while we're here.” He paused for a few seconds, staring blankly in the direction of the rows of buttons for long enough that it seemed like that was the end of the conversation. “It’s just… Couldn’t have known without trying, right? He didn’t seem upset by the idea of… this. Back then. He was scared. Now-"

"He'll talk about it when he's ready,” Henry insisted, with not a little bit of desperation. “Whatever it is."

"Yeah. I know."

One more sigh, then silence reigned. Ryeowook’s touch spoke of sadness where his words were left wanting, rubbing Henry's arm, then his fingertips touching down at his hairline to glide back along the side of his head. It’d almost feel worse, if it weren’t so comforting to hear _I’m here for you. I care about your pain._ through the pads of his fingers and the sure slide of his palm. Henry leaned into it shamelessly, soaking it up.

Once they'd been deposited on their floor, they lingered in the elevator lobby, walking at a lazy pace until the other guest passing by was out of sight with the click of a latch. Ryeowook's arms wound their way around Henry's waist, crossing at the dip of his back, so light as though still expecting to be pushed away. On autopilot, Henry wrapped his arms around Ryeowook's shoulders, whose hold then tightened to the point of outright squeezing. Mutual support. _Again,_ he realized with a with a stab of despair, right in the middle of his chest. He would ignore it.

*

When they got back, Donghae made an indecipherable sound but didn’t move. He was sitting contorted on the single wooden chair in the room, twirling one pen over the backs of his fingers, another stuck in his mouth. It was almost a relief that he wasn’t paying them any attention. Best to leave him to his process.

Pants discarded, Henry sat up on the bed, back against the headboard, legs in a wide vee. Ryeowook was puttering around even though he must be tired too. "Play a game with me?" Henry offered to him with a smile, patting the space between his legs. Ryeowook agreed in a sweet tone, crawling to the offered space, scooting so his back was pressed to Henry's chest.

When Donghae’s pen dropped to the floor, he picked it up without once turning back to them. Mumbling to himself, the faint scratch-slide of him writing could be heard in a furious rhythm.

The game was an older one Henry’s got installed. It was simple enough to be relaxing, the music enchanting and light-hearted. While it wasn’t a two-player game, he got involved on Ryeowook’s turn too, said involvement being more hindrance than help. Ryeowook just laughed and batted his hand away with the gentlest push.

Pressed together like this, Henry could feel Ryeowook's tension melting away. A victory thump hit hard against his ribcage. He was surprised his heart still did that.

“I like that music,” Donghae suddenly said, though still not turning around. “It makes me think of Christmas.”

“It’s nice, right?” Henry agreed easily. He wouldn’t think about whether it meant something bigger than it seemed. He _wouldn’t._ (But if it did, it sounded like a good thing.)

“This one’s my favorite. Aw, I lost again,” Ryeowook added, not sounding at all unhappy. “One more round.” He took the tablet for himself without even pretending to ask. Henry considered that a success, holding him instead.

He thought, idly, at the back of his mind, that they were like comfortable sweaters, worn and cherished for years and years. But then he kissed the back of Ryeowook’s neck, got mock-scolded for ruining his streak, and he was sure that no sweater had ever made him feel like this.

*

As if freed merely by bringing the issue out into the open, Donghae was back to his usual self, drumming a fast rhythm with both hands on the wooden table. “She said she was from Montana and liked knitting. Very friendly! But we didn’t talk for long. I was done and I had a song idea, so I went back.”

“That’s good! I’m glad you went out,” Ryeowook said while he pinched the crust again to see if it cooled down. He yanked his fingers back. “A little longer.”

“I’m not gonna wait,” Henry declared, promptly pulling a slice off the metal tray and onto a paper plate in on-and-off partial tugs. “Ow.” Undeterred, he pushed it to the edge of the plate so that the tip was sticking out and took a bite. “Shfine.” Only burned a little.

Grinning wide and open-mouthed, Donghae copied him, though he blew on his before biting into it. _Smart. Should’ve done that._

The quiet was comfortable, if quiet included the clatter of the table moving around, high-pitched squeals as chairs were repositioned with people still in them, yelling and raucous laughter, and Ryeowook’s little noises as he kept poking the crust. At some point, he must be being weird on purpose, though if he had fun with it, who was anyone else to object? Eventually, his poking struck gold, and he deemed the pizza suitable for eating.

Donghae took that as a sign to go for seconds. Obviously.

“This is really good,” Ryeowook admitted with his mouth half full, his hand hovering in front to cover it up but failing to hide the curve of his cheeks ( _fuck, he’s too cute when he loosens up)_ , “but I didn't fly half a day across an ocean to eat pizza!” Finishing his mouthful, he quirked a half-exasperated half-smile while his slice laid limp in his hand. Donghae laughed and smacked his arm, which made Ryeowook push him so hard he nearly fell off his chair. A drop of sauce dripped down, splattering onto the table.

 _Yep, those’re my idiots,_ Henry thought contently, happy to let them settle it themselves. Counting down from ten, he had it down almost to the second when they stopped poking each other, hugged briefly, then went back to eating like it’d never happened. He swallowed before he spoke, mentally congratulating himself on his excellent civilized behavior.

“This is _New York_ pizza. It's completely different,” he said, trying to come off serious and sage-like.

“That's true, it's different,” Ryeowook agreed with a thoughtful air. Snorting before schooling his expression once more, Henry found it funny, for some reason, how much they trusted him here.


	3. Experience

The sun shined on- no, it was overcast. The weather had no sense of adventure. Clouds covered the sky, putting somewhat of a damper on his mood, but their schedule had more room today, which made him all the more enthusiastic to do all the things.

If he didn’t fall back asleep.

As soon as Donghae pounced on him, he knew that wasn’t going to be an option. Aha! A test! He got his arms around Donghae’s back, pulled him _nice_ and close, positioned his legs, squeezed as he used all the leverage he could muster to flip them over. Yeah, he had this down pat.

Grinning the same as if he’d won, Donghae wiggled under him, making no move to escape. So be it. Henry (mostly) pretended to gnaw at his neck, making Donghae laugh while now trying to push him off.

“Morning,” he said, beaming, then swooped in for a second attack. Behind the giggles, a click was audible. They both turned towards the sound.

“You’re up,” Ryeowook said, sounding quite pleased about it. “Here, eat.”

Donghae took advantage of the distraction to flip them over again. Surprisingly, all he did was press a kiss to Henry’s temple and barely even tickled him, not even a second’s worth, before rolling off him and into a crouch on the floor. Puzzling.

Then the scent hit him. It must’ve been coming from that box!

Donghae’s cheeks were already bulging, while Ryeowook had a chunk of bread dangling out of his mouth. By the look of it, he’d gone to the nearest bakery to buy every croissant they had left.

“Wh’t’m’t?” Henry asked, or tried to. Not being able to see the sun was throwing him off.

“Swallow first. I can’t understand you,” Ryeowook said, laughing at him.

_Meh. You win some, you lose some._ The pastries were barely still warm enough, yet he found himself ravenous, hardly able to pause after the first one. “What time is it?”

“Almost ten.”

That alarmed him. _Ten? Already?_ He blinked three times in rapid succession. He had no idea he _could_ sleep that long anymore. It was then that he noticed that Donghae was already mostly dressed. (And those slacks did him every favor in the _world_ , was the next thing he noticed.) Mentally calculating travel times, he shucked his sleep clothes off, going between rummaging through his suitcase and the bakery box, getting down about half a croissant per item of clothing.

The last one was snatched right out of his fingers, eaten before he could react. He glowered, wiping crumbs off Donghae’s shirt much harder than necessary.

Donghae seemed unfazed. A jacket was draped over his shoulders, deep, dark blue hanging over his sides, white sleeves swaying as he wriggled. Then Ryeowook made a good effort at stuffing the broken-down bakery box into the tiny wastebasket.

“Remind me where we’re going?” Henry asked, though he was mostly entranced by Donghae’s chest moving under the straining fabric of his shirt as he put on the jacket he was given a moment ago. Henry forgot that he asked anything for a thought-length instant. He looked over after a second of Ryeowook’s displeased toneless humming.

“Madam… toss- teos- teo-ssa-eut?” Speaking slowly, Ryeowook looked more unhappy with each attempt at pronouncing the name. He made some annoyed sound and pursed his mouth for a second. “Close enough. The wax celebrity museum. It sounds kind of weird, but it’s a famous place, right? So I feel like I should see it once.”

“Your wish is my command,” Henry said, switching them back to English.

“Aladdin!” Ryeowook and Donghae both shouted at the same time.

“Correct!” Henry replied, putting on his best schoolteacher’s airs. “Ten points for Gryffindor!”

“No repeats!” Donghae whined, even going so far as to kick the wooden base of the bed.

“That one wasn’t a test,” Henry said, lapsing into Korean for simplicity’s sake as he hopped into his shoes. “If you keep complaining, you won’t get the mystery prize.” Leading by example, he finally got them out the door, stomach full and ready to take on the world.

”I bet it’s stupid anyway,” Donghae shot back, elbowing Henry as he passed. Henry caught up to shove him further down the hallway, and thus, the chase began.

Ryeowook's voice behind them grew fainter, but even through their clomping steps, Henry picked up enough to recognize his familiar refrain that he was really more of a Slytherin. Hilariously, considering he was five-foot-four of fluff, Ryeowook had some sort of stubborn investment in thinking that he was capable of villainy. Henry would’ve turned to argue, but he couldn’t let Donghae get away. He was almost within reach.

*

Part of him wanted to plaster the silly pictures they took here all over the group chat, and a much, much smaller part of him never wanted anyone else to see them. Yet, for now, that was the part that was winning in his mind.

He reasoned that he'd let Ryeowook take care of it. That tended to be the best bet. He had a good sense of these things. That and he was quite proud of his exclusive… collection, and could sulk for days if he didn’t get to show off his choice selections first. Or retaliate, with unpredictable consequences. (Usually funny, though.) But it was mostly the good sense thing. Really.

It’s not like Donghae wouldn’t end up sharing the rest anyway, he thought with a laughing sort of fondness, the laughter actualizing in the chilly air without his permission as they walked down the street. The folder would sync when they stopped for coffee, and then, there’d be no stopping him.

“What is it?” Donghae asked as Henry flung his arm around his shoulders.

“Nothing,” Henry said as simply as he could, and refused to give in to Donghae’s pestering, mentally timing how long he kept on that train of thought as a data point to keep in his arsenal.

*

Decidedly upscale was the only way to describe this place. Or just, hats. Endless hats.

Ryeowook was trying one on, a dark grey one made of felt, an understated hatband with a nearly-invisible stretched-out bow wrapped just over the brim. Henry adjusted it on his head at different angles while he made exaggerated sounds of mock consideration and surprise, all of them silly and perfectly timed. After a particularly loud “ooh!”, Henry pulled it down over Ryeowook’s eyes, who then took it off only to thwack him with it. He looked remorseful - towards the hat, that is, patting it back into shape and setting it back where he found it. And _apologized to it._ Sincerely.

There may or may not have been some snickering. Henry would admit to nothing of the sort, no matter how sharp the suspicion directed at him.

Browsing through another few, there was a noticeable change when Ryeowook found one he liked, nearly vibrating with a sort of playful delight. He put it on hastily, taking quick off-balance steps back to the mirror. On his head was a straw fedora with a blue-and-white checkered band that looked out of place in the dreary, cloudy chill of autumn, but in a good way. A splash of summer for their eyes alone, meeting over his shoulder in the mirror.

Taking it off didn’t ruin the effect, but it was dimmed when Ryeowook looked at the price tag, making a particularly sour frown. Rational wasn’t involved in the slightest, only a deep gut sense of needing to make him happy driving Henry to say, “It’s okay, I’ll get it for you.”

Somehow, though it’s far from the first time, a brief flash of shock passes over Ryeowook’s face, almost too fast to see. Some differences, Henry realized with a jab of sorrow in his chest that climbed its way up into his throat, are in there so deep that they may never come out. He let that awareness fall to the back of his mind, instead getting caught up in Ryeowook’s half-hearted protests, ensuing in the next second when he seemed to find his bearings, drawing out his vowels in affectionate teasing.

Henry grinned. They were back on familiar ground. “It’ll be a second birthday present. A really late one.” Ryeowook bit his lip while smiling, shifting back and forth from one foot to the other as he pretended to consider.

“Alright, alright. But only this.” He came breath-close to Henry, went up on his tiptoes to murmur right into his ear, “I won’t forget this. I’ll find a way to spoil you rotten.” The tilt of his mouth, his hooded eyes, everything from his eyebrows to the angle of his chin down to his stance and his hand in his pocket, thumb hanging out, screamed devious as loud as a sign flashing above his head.

Henry swallowed hard. That combination did things to him that weren’t allowed in public, transporting him back to Donghae’s hands firmly holding his wrists and breath blowing hot against his neck, Ryeowook’s tongue tracing a treacherous teasing line up, up, up his inner thigh, high voice turned sultrylow commanding him to _look_ -

“How do I look?” Donghae yelled cheerfully from across at least a dozen rows of hats. _Columns?_ Henry thought, but didn’t resolve the question.

The heatwave passed; Ryeowook put the sunshine hat on the counter next to him, giggling out, “Ridiculous!” He was right, too. On Donghae’s head were three hats of clashing colors, piled up on top of one another.

Henry reached around to grab the fedora on the counter, placing it back on Ryeowook’s head. Ryeowook automatically adjusted it, tilting it farther back. Henry liked the way it sort of dwarfed Ryeowook’s head; the sight pleasantly tugged at something inside him.

Meanwhile, Donghae proceeded to add a fourth hat to his stack, a blue one with a border around the brim the texture of a paper prize ribbon. He looked quite happy with the addition. Then the slightest movement of his head toppled the tower.

Henry scrambled to catch them. One flipped in his slippery hands a couple of times before settling down. Ryeowook had caught another, his right side up and covering his whole hand, while a third laid upside down on Donghae’s palms, perfectly centered. They looked at each other warily. The base hat was still on Donghae’s head; he looked unbelievably unruffled.

At once, they burst out into laughter - snorting, undignified, bent double laughter. It felt like a release of tension. It was _great_. He wiped the corners of his eyes. Really, all that over some falling hats? Still, it felt so good to let out… whatever it was.

“Come on,” Ryeowook said, fading notes of happiness lightening his voice, “let’s finish up or we’ll be late.” He laid out the beleaguered hats in a neat row on the counter, taking his selection as well the one left on Donghae’s head, who didn’t seem to notice.

“Isn’t it more than three hours before the game starts?” Donghae asked, his face scrunched up in confusion, head tilted at a slight angle.

“Trust me, I read about this. We should go now,” Ryeowook said, deftly moving Donghae towards the register by his elbow. “We don’t have to hurry, but we need to start walking to the bus stop.”

Somehow, Henry ended up paying for both of them without even getting anything for himself. He’s not _entirely_ sure that didn’t happen on purpose. At least he didn’t get stuck carrying them, too.

They'd agreed beforehand to avoid work talk, Ryeowook having heard something somewhere he wouldn't specify or didn't remember, that talking about work on vacation wasn't relaxing, that there was a study or something, and so, being halfway through the second day, none of them felt the need to fill every second with chatter.

Because of that, he let himself get lost in his thoughts for a while as they walked. His hands warm enough inside his jacket pockets, he let the colors he saw whisk him away on mental leaps - unusual birds, mundane tasks to be done when he got back to his house, what the world’s biggest waterfall was, whether to buy more underwear. He stared ahead, moving by reflex around anyone who got in his way, tall coats and short coats and wide coats all blending in his wavering attention, gone as quickly as they came.

Something pricked his awareness. Like coming out of a haze, the cylinders of muted colors sharpened into people once more. He looked around, then took Ryeowook's arm.

"Hyung, where's Donghae?"

“What do you...” Ryeowook stopped. Turned. Spun back around, wide-eyed and panic-stricken. “Oh no.”

“Hey, hey, calm down. He probably got distracted by something. Let’s go back this way.” With that, Henry reluctantly let go, walking back up the block and trusting that Ryeowook wouldn’t get lost too. Not that he would. Not really. Probably not.

Walking for barely a minute, they found Donghae staring at a display in a jewelry store window, hands shoved deep into his pockets, his face devoid of expression. Breaking into a sprint, Ryeowook knocked into him, but it was like he barely noticed, bringing his arm up for an absentminded side-hug as soon as he was balanced again.

Henry approached more cautiously.

“It’s okay,” Donghae said in a flat, scratchy voice. That got Ryeowook pushing away from him, looking near tears.

“I was so worried,” he said, sounding it, too. At least that broke Donghae out of his trance, since he finally turned his head.

“You could’ve called me,” Donghae calmly pointed out. (And yet, even as little as a year ago, Donghae would’ve been sending them message after message checking on them.)

“Don’t make fun of me!” Ryeowook swatted Donghae’s upper arm with the back of his hand. “I was scared. I would’ve thought of it in a minute.”

Henry pulled him close, not suspiciously or for too long. “It’s okay, babe. They were only dreams,” he said in a low voice. _A week straight of those would mess anyone up, though. Poor thing._ Letting him go was almost physically painful this time, yet Henry did so without showing a hint of it because he did what he had to do.

_Is this why?_ He thought, looking at Donghae staring at the same display that had separated them in the first place, an air of melancholy swirling around him. _How long have you been hurting by yourself, thinking about this?_

He felt a knot forming between his shoulderblades. Could be the schedule, could be everything. He tugged on Donghae’s sleeve. “Let’s get going,” he said, jerking his head in the direction of the nearest bus stop.

In another stroke of luck, the front seats were vacant when they got on, a row of three of them facing out from the side, perpendicular to two front-facing seats. Ryeowook took the back one, next to a baby that smiled from their parent’s lap, seemingly at the sight of him.

“Hello! Cute baby!” Ryeowook said in his careful way, sounding delighted. Henry angled his body towards him and leaned forward, elbows on his knees, watching with a small smile as Ryeowook made silly faces and sounds. He saw tiny hands patting Ryeowook’s cheeks when he leaned in close, tiny fingers trying to get a grip on the charms dangling from the thin silver chain of his bracelet. (Sure, it wasn’t the most original present, but Ryeowook had liked it a whole lot more after Henry had proudly declared that he’d made it himself. Cheesy as **hell** and all the more successful for it. _Yeah, I still got it,_ he couldn’t help but think every time he saw Ryeowook wear it.)

The baby made a frustrated noise when the bracelet went out of reach, then blew a raspberry. Ryeowook giggled.

In hardly any time at all, the bus was stuck inching through the slow rumble of traffic. Henry sat back in his seat, sprawling out as much as he could in the small space while he could get away with it. “Man, I haven’t taken this many buses since I was a trainee!”

That got Ryeowook to look at him, intently, full of soft indulgence. "Back then, I didn't know you ever left the practice room," he joked. "Ah, you were so cute!"

"Are you saying I'm not anymore?" Henry pouted for effect. Ryeowook lightly thwapped his arm, his touch lingering for a second before it fell away.

"I didn't say that." His tone was almost scolding, but in that affectionate way that was uniquely his. The funniest things could warm your heart or leave you with a floaty, happy feeling.

Then Donghae relinquished his seat to join in the fun, crouching down, moving the baby’s wrists with his hands to a wordless tune, only a repeating “badada baba dadata”. He got a raspberry too, and made one right back. He looked so damn _happy_.

*

There were too many people and everything took too long and Henry was really, really considering having a drink while it was still daylight out. Considered it for a long time while he fiddled with his earbuds, taking his time taking them off and unplugging the spare battery pack, too. Deciding against it wasn’t easy, but something didn’t _feel_ right in his gut.

Anyway, food first. That’d been the point for at least the last hour. It was hitting him hard at the moment. Even Donghae was wilting as they shuffled in at last.

Sign, sign, where’s a sign…

He looked back, liked that they were following him no matter how lost he looked. Was? Sort of was. It’s fine, he found the hundreds, so mostly not lost anymore. Eventually, he found the right place. The line looked unnervingly long; still, even if his info was wrong, they had time to spare.

“I’ll handle this,” Henry said. How easily that was accepted, and how quickly he was left alone, might’ve upset him any other time. He blanked his mind, putting his earbuds back in. The line looked long, yet moved briskly, and he soon had the goods in hand without any memory of it. He stared at the ground for a bit. With a deep breath, he crammed his earbuds in his pocket, after realizing they were both looped around his wrist _and_ still plugged in. The small stack of plastic containers wobbled in his other arm, frightening him for a split second. “Whew. Fuck.”

Weaving around the foot traffic, hearing snatches of sentences without processing them, he soon interrupted Donghae and Ryeowook talking quietly, shoulders touching and heads turned to each other. Though unsmiling at the moment, they radiated the familiarity of a hearth.

…What was that word doing lodged in his brain? He shook his head, handing over the sandwiches instead of thinking about that any further. “Here, take one already, they’re gonna fall.” He wasn’t _really_ whining, it just got them to pay attention quicker when he sounded like it.

Damn, did his hard work pay off. Once Ryeowook opened it up and took a bite, he made an expression of pleasure so intense that Henry briefly wondered if it was legal to show that in public, followed by exclaiming, “Wow, it’s so _tender!_ ”

Having been stuck staring as well up to this point, Donghae tried his next. He made a sound more suited for an overreaction on a show, whatever he was trying to say distorted by the sandwich itself.

While eating his at his own pace, Henry now had a swagger in his step walking towards the seating area. Ryeowook wasn’t the only one who could do a bit of research. Fuck, it felt good to bounce back. “Hwhee shlt,” he said with a full mouth, wiping away stray sauce. They weren’t kidding!

Life seemed simple, just for a little while, despite how many people almost ran into him. What he wouldn’t give for that to be the worst of his problems _every_ day.

Settled in with an overpriced drink at his side, Donghae was enthusiastic already, leaning forward with his forearms braced on his thighs. “These are pretty good seats. You picked well,” he said, giving Ryeowook a dazzling smile. (There was no way to mix up who he was looking at, even if it wasn’t for him craning his neck; he scrunches up his eyes in an unmistakable way.)

As soon as the announcer and the first of the horns sounded, that was it for having any chance at catching Donghae’s attention. He looked enthralled. _Ah, that’s just like him._

To Henry’s left, Ryeowook was decidedly the opposite. He leaned over to whisper, “You don’t care at all about baseball, do you.”

“No,” Ryeowook whispered back.

“This is for Donghae, isn’t it,” Henry said. Ryeowook gave him a toothy burst of pure, tender joy at point blank range. (And it really was a gift, but he wouldn’t say that here.)

Henry wasn’t reckless enough to kiss him here, but for a breathless instant, it was a close thing. Instead, he said, “It’s fun, but I’m a tennis kind of guy. Or hockey. But this is good too.” He grinned, throwing in a touch of overconfident, a pinch of unreserved.

Ryeowook looked at him fondly. “Yes, okay,” he said in his overly precise English, which shouldn’t have been as endearing as it still was. On his other side, Donghae was bouncing his leg up and down, barely even blinking. Henry knocked his knee into Ryeowook’s leg, getting a harder hit in return, though nothing too bad.

“You really did great” escaped his mouth unbidden; that got Ryeowook to beam like the sun. It made him melt all over again. “Not that selfless, huh?” he teased.

“Selfless enough,” Ryeowook shot back the same way. “Enough for you to like me.”

“That I do,” Henry said, making a small, quick kissy face. _Totally_ subtle and smooth. Not at all justifying Ryeowook holding back laughter like that, though the powerful sense of adoration more than made up for it.

The best part was that Ryeowook didn’t bother picking a team, cheering whenever anything the slightest bit exciting happened. Donghae didn’t even notice, which means neither of them could object when they got hell for it later. Or at least, not _too_ much.

*

The cart rattled rhythmically. The sound wove through the jumble of trivial thoughts in his head, which soon collapsed like a house of cards. “I’ve been working on something,” Donghae said. Somehow, Henry was glad for the interruption. A little slow to switch gears, he acknowledged the familiar opening with a touch to the middle of Donghae’s back. “That… It’s strange, but, it’s slow, sad ballad kind of music. I was surprised too. I don’t know who it’s for yet, or if it’s for anyone.”

“That’s great, man!” Henry said, clapping Donghae's shoulder. "It’s good to branch out.” He bumped their shoulders together. Donghae did it back, too, which nearly sent him crashing into a display of cheese dip. Right next to a bunch of glass jars was **not** the best place to escalate this, fun as it sounded.

Thud, thud, squeak-thud. He was leaning down to look at a row of boxes - he really, really wanted some chocolate-covered biscuits all of a sudden - when he heard Donghae's voice yelling his name from the other end of the aisle. As soon as he turned around, before he could register what was happening, something was flying his way. He’d thrown a bag all the way across. One of them must’ve miscalculated; despite a heroic effort on Henry’s part, it fell just short.

“It's fine! I'll eat it!” Donghae yelled, thudding back towards him.

Henry shook his head, scrunching his eyes with affection. “Grab another one!” he said, stuffing the dropped bag onto the nearest shelf. Donghae threw the next one from only _halfway_ across, which worked out much better. It landed in Henry’s arms. Sort of. Eventually, after some fumbling and catching it a few inches off the ground. Good enough. He caught it, didn't he?

He ignored the slight tremble in his hands in favor of looking at the bag. Barbecue flavored. _Like he’d get anything else here_ , he thought, and couldn’t hold back a chuckle as he dropped it into their cart. Not before victoriously holding it high over his head, though, of course. And shaking it like a trophy.

Moving on to more important things.

He looked back and up this time, spotting the biscuits. Before he could reach them, however, he found that something had his escaped his notice, namely Donghae not only joining him again but wrapping his arms around Henry's waist. Fuck, that felt good. Then that must've been Donghae's head leaning against his upper back; he was sure it'd be like having a short, determined furnace wrapped around him if there wasn't his puffy jacket between them. As it stands, it was warm just beneath his ribs, spreading down to his stomach. He laid his forearms over Donghae's. They stood like that in the snack aisle for who knows how long.

A cart rattling as it passed shook him out of his stupor, awareness of his surroundings returning with an unpleasant jolt. Getting up on his tiptoes, he nabbed the long box at last. Disappointment radiated from the now-chilled places on his body. They grabbed a couple of cokes and figured that that was enough because their room had the world's tiniest fridge, and no microwave, to boot.

They came in at a slow hour, it seemed. The cashier was cute and bubbly, asking how his weekend was. He said the fun's just getting started. She laughed. “Are you having a party?”

“Why, d’you wanna go?” He grinned. He liked her short-cropped hair, and briefly thought about getting a similar cut when he got back.

She smiled bigger. "I'm stuck here for another few hours. You'll have to have fun without me."

"That's too bad," he said as he swiped his card. "Maybe next time," he joked. He’d easily fallen into playful confidence. He’d missed it. She laughed again.

"Here’s your receipt. Have a nice day!”

"Thanks. I'll try not to freeze out there." He winked at her, grabbed their bags, waved as he left. Donghae roughly yanked them out of his hand, walking ahead of him and gaining distance with each passing second.

"Slow down!"

Thankfully, he did. Once Henry caught up, he looked over carefully, but saw no obvious clues to decipher Donghae's mood. "Dude, what's up?"

Donghae shrugged. What to do? Henry pulled at the handle of the plastic bag in his hand, trying to get a rise out of him. Or some kind of response.

"I'm hungry," Donghae announced, and Henry might've left it at that if it wasn't for what Ryeowook had said yesterday.

"Is that why you're upset?" he asked as gently as he could.

"I'm fine," Donghae insisted. "Hungry. Hurry up."

*

Sans cupcake and lid, the box-that-wasn’t-a-box fell apart on the floor, laying sadly in the corner Henry threw it into. (The not-box looked great until you opened it; surely a metaphor for something, but figuring out what didn’t seem important.) There’d been a buy two, get one free deal at the frankly garishly pink cupcake store he saw on the way back. The cashier had offered the info after a minute of indecisive staring; it was as good of an excuse as any to get three.

Six-year-old him had some good ideas after all. (Four-year-old him would’ve bought the entire case, given the chance. Maturity really had him by the tail.)

Having extracted the top one in the bag, he bit into the peanut butter cupcake. The mini peanut butter cup on top melted in his mouth. “Sgfhd,” he groaned.

“Hey, let me try that one!” Donghae pounced on him without further warning, the prized cupcake nearly flying out of his hands.

“Hold ooooon!” Henry took one more small bite, relinquishing the remaining half to Donghae’s overeager grabbing. Ryeowook laughed at his misfortune from the window where he’d been standing for the past few minutes, gazing at the nighttime view. It was adorable how dramatic he looked when he did that, hands clasped behind his back, spine straight. He leaned against the wall next to it now, hands tucked into his pockets, fixing his growing-sleepy gaze on them. Truly, he was mesmerizing beyond belief.

“Hwo, puhst tsood!”

Oh, **gross** , there were crumbs flying onto Henry’s face now. “Hyung!” He pushed Donghae off. “Swallow first!” The irony wasn’t lost on him. _Pretty sure it’s irony._

Muffled sounds came out before he did just that. “I bet-“ Donghae licked his lips, ran his tongue over his teeth, wiped around the outside of his mouth with his index finger. “I bet you were surprised that I didn’t get upset earlier, and that I haven’t been constantly checking in,” he said, shoulders held back, chin raised.

“You’re right.” With that, Ryeowook came close enough to wipe the crumbs he missed off his cheek, then laid down beside them. “Kyuhyun used to complain _all_ the time.”

“I bet he didn’t mind that much,” Henry said as he laced his and Donghae’s fingers together. The smirk on his face was unintentional, really, just part of his natural charm. Yet Donghae didn’t take the bait.

“It’s been hard,” he said, uncharacteristically quietly, “but I had to deal with it, right? So of course I figured out how to handle it on my own eventually. I’ve been working on that for a while.” He squeezed their linked hands. “Thanks for listening… and not laughing,” he went on, softer still. “Helping me find someone to talk to, too. Once I was ready, that’s what I needed. So… Thank you.”

Henry squeezed back. “That’s what this is about. Working to get a little bit better every day.” Ryeowook made a wordless agreeing sound - as much as could be expected from him when he looked ready for a nap, periodically stretching his eyes open as far as they’d go after each time they drifted closed.

"Stop eating all those books!" It was hard to tell with Donghae what was an actual complaint when they were so bizarre. Henry shoved at his shoulder.

"I don’t _eat_ them! Weirdo," he said with a grin.

Indistinct voices could be heard through the wall, a spike of volume that soon flattened into the background.

Suddenly looking down, occasionally sucking in his bottom lip and immediately letting it go, Donghae was silent for a long time. “It’s still hard, but not as hard as it used to be. I’m glad we got to do this.” He turned first to Henry, his half smile getting a peck, then towards Ryeowook. Without letting go of Donghae’s hand, Henry sprawled himself across his lap as best he could. “Keeping my promise makes me happy.”

Ryeowook closed his eyes again. “It was a long time ago. We’d just started talking again.”

“After six months!” Donghae interjected, followed shortly by Ryeowook’s laughter.

“Yeah. It seems silly now,” Ryeowook said with a not-unhappy sigh. Something like nostalgic.

“It was silly then, too,” Henry added, earning himself two separate swats, Donghae’s coming a second time in the same spot with a sound of protest.

“Hush,” Ryeowook commanded, his strict tone belying the tenderness with which his fingers were now running through Henry’s hair so gently. “Anyway, we were emotional and didn’t know what the future held. It was harder for me to control myself back then-“

“You wouldn’t stop crying,” Donghae interrupted. “I didn’t know what to do.”

“Right,” Ryeowook said through embarrassed giggles. “There was a lot going on at the time, the kinds of things that don’t seem at all important now.”

“Were you drunk?” Henry asked with a knowing, fond almost-smile. Ryeowook laughed gamely, moving to stroke his arm - however it was that he found it with his eyes closed without bopping him anywhere along the way.

“I was _so_ drunk,” Ryeowook admitted with a self-deprecating chuckle, his eyes opening a sliver, then turned to Donghae again at his “ah” of realization. “So then you…” He trailed off for a second, pointing his open hand towards Donghae as though it’d needed clarification. “…asked me what I wanted most in the world. I couldn’t think of anything, so you kept saying, ‘Tell me! Tell me!’ until I remembered that I’d been thinking about New York.” He sighed. “We were so young then.”

Though the story was clearly being told for his benefit, Henry strangely felt like a bit player, practically forgotten about. The feeling only intensified when Donghae pressed his forehead to Ryeowook’s.

“I remember. It got you to stop crying,” Donghae said with an air of self-satisfaction. A mattress spring squeaked when he bounce-shifted around, ending up in the same position, just looking more relaxed.

“You promised you’d take me and we could do whatever I wanted,” Ryeowook finished a bit hoarsely.

“Yeah. Sorry that it took so long for me to be able to go with you like this.”

“No, don’t apologize. It’s better that I’ve gone before so that I’m not rushing around trying to do everything at once. Anyway, that time… Maybe that’s when I started really falling for you.” Donghae hummed contently. Soon, the soft sounds of their kissing reached Henry’s increasingly drowsy awareness.

“What about me?” he mumbled. Ryeowook’s fingers were back in his hair, now switching from making lines to going in circles. The kissing sounds went on for a few more seconds before he got an answer.

“Another time. You made me think you didn’t like me, so I’ll make you wait a little longer,” Ryeowook said in a teasing tone. Henry pouted and whined, playing along.

“Hyung is so meaaaaan!”

“That’s right,” Ryeowook said, swiftly moving to pinch his cheek. Donghae released his hand only to go right to squeezing his ass. Henry complained that he wasn’t a squeeze toy. All in all, life went on as normal.


	4. Return

It was even harder to get up on the last day. When he stretched, it sounded like someone was stomping on a sheet of bubble wrap. “Mf.” It hadn’t escaped his notice that one day, a couple of years ago, getting up had shifted from mostly easy to mostly hard and just… never switched back.

He scooted farther from the edge and closer to comfort and heat, and closed his eyes.

*

The random sitcom he’d found wasn’t holding his attention anyway, so of course Henry found it much more interesting to look over at Ryeowook holding his day planner farther and farther from his face, squinting at it with suspicion. After that, he grabbed a pen out of nowhere (he was always doing that; he could find a pen in a desert, Henry mused) to furiously scratch out something on it.

“’Sup?” Henry asked. On his legs, he felt Donghae’s head roll in the same direction.

“It’s nothing. I’m too tired to do this one.” He _looked_ tired, too. Not snap and screech tired. But tired.

“Finally giving us a break?” Henry said with a cheeky grin.

“You okay?” Donghae said in a flat voice, though not an uncaring one.

“Well… I _could_ use a leg massage,” Ryeowook said, suddenly mischief incarnate from head to toe as he unbuttoned his pants.

_Oh fuck yeah,_ Henry thought. Or said, he wasn’t sure. He sat up quicker than a startled squirrel, then scrambled up and out from under Donghae’s head, not without some complaint. “I’ll turn the heat up higher!”

Ryeowook nodded and pulled up the hem of his shirt.

*

There was a spot on Henry’s head that persisted in feeling strangely tender where Ryeowook accidentally pulled his hair. Agitated that it was hurting, he rubbed at it, which only reminded him that it was hurting. Though it would stop if he left it alone, it kept bothering him, so he kept rubbing it.

Thought bubble.

“I’m surprised you didn’t, um, put any of the art museums around here on your schedule,” he said, forcibly keeping his hand _away_ from his hair this time. Ryeowook smiled sheepishly from under the blanket, casting his eyes towards the wall. Only his head and part of his hands peeked out as he sank down further.

“I went to one for some event once and I didn’t get it,” he admitted. As though sensing it was safe ( _from what?_ Henry wondered), he slid the blanket down to his ribs. His cheeks were still faintly tinged with pink, as well as the one ear that he could see. “Everyone else was staring at the paintings, making all these comments, but I didn’t understand what they were seeing, so I just nodded along and pretended to do the same until it was over.”

“So you hated it,” Henry said, dipping down to nuzzle his shoulder.

“Well… That is…”

“I wouldn’t have liked it either,” Donghae said in solidarity, squeezing his hip, which came off oddly menacing this time.

“I wasn’t up-upset about it!” Henry hastened to clarify. “Just curious!”

“But, don’t you like art?” Ryeowook asked, sounding a bit sad, kissing the top of his head.

“Yeah… But, it’s better that we didn’t if you’d both be bored. I can come back. There’ll still be art. I promise,” he said, looking up with a rakish grin.

“Thanks,” Ryeowook murmured. “Hold on, you have an eyelash on your face.” He swiped the tip of his index finger just under Henry’s eye. “Got it,” he said, darting down to steal a peck, then draping himself over Henry’s arm. “Hyung, could you please get some ice?” he asked, his voice level even as they wriggled around to find a non-arm-squishing position.

Donghae yawned. “Hm? Sure,” he said affably, soon walking out in only a pair of sweatpants and a button-up so thin it was bordering on transparent. Henry was sure because he watched the whole time.

“How does he never get cold?” Ryeowook grumbled. He quickly shook his head. “Henry…” Even in that somber tone, it was still a pleasure to hear. And then… “Are you okay?”

Henry swallowed hard. He could feel himself drooping at the question, struggled to not be so obvious about it, frantically holding up the façade he’d maintained so well by not thinking. _You’re not fragile. You fought for this. You’ve gotta keep it together. Even if it might be the last time._ Whether or not it was healthy to keep despair at bay was another question altogether.

He wanted to say yes. He wanted to so badly the weight of it crushed him, but Ryeowook gazing up at him with his forehead wrinkled and eyes open wide, worried, caring, made it absolutely impossible.

It crumbled. Or he did.

“I’m not sure,” he finally said, pressing their foreheads together. “I don’t know,” he whispered. Anything else would be a lie.

They fit themselves together as close as they could. He gathered strength from that.

Minutes longer than expected, Donghae made a noisy return, moreso than one person should’ve been capble of. It sounded like he was saying something about Italy. Despite having built himself back up, Henry found, for once, that he didn’t have the energy to respond.

Donghae’s chatter stopped. There was a heavy click that was probably the mini-fridge opening, then a closing squeak-push. Soft rustling, one after another after another. The mattress dipping from his added weight. When he fit himself around Henry, instead of a row of buttons, there was only the press of skin to skin. Henry thought that was considerate of him.

*

The botanical garden entrance was a wood-paneled archway, one side mostly shaded, the late morning light making criss-crossing shadows on the ground. He’d hoped that the pumpkins would be around early, but it looked like they were fated to miss those. The stunning reds and oranges, with splashes of hearty green, more than made up for it. It’d started drizzling at least an hour ago, which is probably why it was emptier than he’d expected.

All the better. He stared, unseeing, at swaying, dripping leaves, rocking back and forth on his feet.

His hood made its way over his head without his involvement. “I read that being in nature is good for you. It’s good for your heart and your mood, even your sleep!” Ryeowook said, popping up at his side.

“That’s right, you sent me that article! I try to go out more because of that,” Henry said, pivoting on one foot to face him. Ryeowook smiled at him, toothy and wide, looking like he just won a prize. “But, you should take your own advice!” He didn’t seem to like that, so Henry poked his cheek with one gloved finger.

Ryeowook huffed and opened his mouth, but only a squeak came out when Donghae crushed him in a bear hug from behind, resting his chin on Ryeowook’s shoulder. “You should come play soccer with me and the guys sometime,” Donghae said, bouncy in voice and body alike.

“I’m not doing that!” Ryeowook immediately squawked.

“It’s not good for you to be cooped up so much,” Donghae countered. Unable to resist such a perfect chance, Henry poked Ryeowook’s shoulder and upper arm and what he could reach of his side, utterly delighted.

“Cut it ouuuuut!” Ryeowook whined. “I’ll come _watch_ , okay?” he offered. Releasing him, Donghae laughed and graciously accepted. Or mockingly, it’s hard to tell sometimes.

“You and all your talk about health and you barely see the sun,” Henry teased him.

“I see the sun plenty!” Ryeowook protested, crossing his arms.

“Okay, okay.” Henry patted his shoulder, then rubbed his upper back, nudging him to start walking again.

“You’ll bring snacks, right?” Donghae asked with great enthusiasm, which, for him, meant suddenly louder. Like twice as loud.

“Sure,” Ryeowook said, undisturbed by the near-yelling somehow. They fell into silence, admiring the… what was that, birch? Could be birch. The bark was light, so he decided it was birch. That’s what Minecraft had taught him, anyway.

They moved through the paths slowly. There was a feeling of peace, or clarity, something that propelled mental tangents to converge. (Or maybe it was their looming return and what it could mean, or bring. Or not.)

“Ryeowook,” Henry said, sharper than he intended though he used the softer form. Ryeowook’s eyes went wide for a second when he faced him. “Ah, sorry.”

“It’s fine. What’s up?” Ryeowook settled right away, slowing down the pace of his walking. He looked curious now, his mouth in an attentive almost-pout.

“I was just wondering why all this.” As Henry spoke, Donghae jogged over, falling in line with their snail’s pace stroll on his other side. Donghae's cologne mixed strangely with the pungent, sickly-sweet scent that clung to him from whatever large-petaled flower he’d been exploring too closely.

“What do you mean?”

Donghae wrapped his arm around Henry’s waist, fingertips running up and down a small stretch of his side. “I’m just wondering…” Henry trailed off as he trailed the backs of his fingers over Donghae’s. “Did you not do any of these things when you came here before? Not that I’m not having a good time!”

Ryeowook chuckled. “No, my trips before were focused on different things. I thought it’d be more fun for all of us if we did more usual activities.” He ducked his head then, looking a bit shy, their eyes only meeting sideways now. “It’s nice, right?”

Cheesy didn’t seem like the way to go this time. “Yeah. You really did great.”

Donghae hummed, radiating contentment, facing the sky with closed eyes.

They sped up to a normal walking speed when Ryeowook said they they were falling behind schedule, Donghae’s arm falling away as easily as if it’d never been there, but not before Henry saw the gleam of Ryeowook beaming with self-satisfaction, his head still tilted down as he led them out.

That didn’t last.

More quietly than before, he continued, “Also… It’s just… I thought it would make a good memory.” His voice could only be described as despondent. No smile could hide that his expression was an unhappy one, full of something bittersweet, unattainable longing or mourning a loss that hadn't yet come to pass. There was no way to know yet whether it would, so there was no way to heal it, either.

Safest thing to do for the time being was go along with what he was saying on the surface. Once again, Henry didn't know when he'd gotten so sick of playing it safe, but he swallowed down his frustration. It wasn't about his feelings right now. (He wondered if this is what commitment was about - making these kinds of decisions without resenting them, knowing that it’s the right thing to do.)

He decided to stop and smell the roses. Literally. They’d reached the circular entrance to a wide path that led into the the rose garden. The scent was unmistakable. Weaving through him, in turn, was a sense that everything would turn out alright.

It was after they’d walked a short curcuit and left for another section that he noticed he’d pulled ahead of them. Shortly, the reason became clear.

“They're not made to go together for most albums,” Donghae said, a smile tugging at his lips.

“They're put in that order for a reason!” Ryeowook countered. “They didn't put all the happy songs together and then put all the sad songs together, it's made to weave a mood you go into and out of.”

“It's not that important. If I don't wanna listen to them in order, I don't have to.”

“But you think about the order when you're making an album, right?” At some point, Ryeowook had taken his hands out of his pockets to emphasize his words with gestures. _I hope he doesn’t get too cold._ Donghae appeared to have had the same thought, pressing one of them between his own.

“Of course! Doesn't mean I always wanna listen to them in the same order. Don't you put your collection on shuffle?” At least they were still moving, though Henry had to stop and wait for them to catch up again and again. He was seriously thinking about breaking this up early. Since they looked like they were having so much fun, he didn’t have the heart to push the matter, in the end.

“Tch, sure I do, but, it's not the same experience at all!” Ryeowook took his hand back. “You don't move through the different emotions that way. You don't hear the message that the whole thing sends. And what about songs that are meant to be a set?”

“If you can’t enjoy them by themselves, they weren’t designed well.”

Now was the time to join in - mostly to antagonize them, same as always. “It doesn't matter most of the time, except when the album has a theme,” Henry piped up. He could recite the arguments he’d get before either made them - Donghae would say that it only matters the first time you listen to it, Ryeowook would dig his heels in and stubbornly contend that it absolutely does **not** only matter for albums with a theme.

Henry grinned, then ignored them both and started loudly marveling over some orchids instead. He was pretty sure these were orchids - one review said that they looked like something right out of scifi, and the intricate, colorful arrangements fit the bill. (He'd done a search out of curiosity while looking over the schedule in Ryeowook's planner. Fuck, it was really too cute that he still used a paper planner.)

They took the hint. Privately, Henry thought that the entire argument didn't really matter, since they'd had it at least a half dozen times that he could recall. Ryeowook had his being teased face on the whole time, Donghae radiated amusement, and the whole thing felt fond rather than antagonistic.

For now, Henry chose to put the hood of his jacket down, wanting to feel the rain on his face.

A minute later, he stopped in front of a water section, his entire face scrunched up with laughter, because Ryeowook used one of the arrangements as a segue into starting the argument back up. _Ah, god, they’re ridiculous._ Somehow, they kept it up _again_ until the three of them got to a forest area. Something about the living arches, thick wood with greenery growing off the trunks haphazardly, was spellbinding. The muggy air here absorbed their words; it filled his lungs with the need for quiet, with peace settling into his bones.

Huh. Something to be said for finishing a few poetry books. Turns out it got easier after the first one.

The time passed in a haze. The aquatic section was incredible too, vines growing freely to hang in green walls and drooping tendrils. They'd just gotten to something really nice with these leafy green things sticking out of the water that looked like something out of a game when Ryeowook said they had to go _right now_. He sounded really worried, too.

"We have to get to the tour exactly on time or we won't get to go at all," he said, only a little slower than his hurried walking. "I had to reserve it a month in advance, you know."

_I’ll miss this,_ Henry thought wistfully, kicking a small stone out of his way.

*

Two minutes to spare. The brewery tour was at five PM sharp, so he barely had time to brush the droplets out of his hair and fix it up before it started.

Most of it was a guided tasting. Donghae made a face at each one; nonetheless, he gamely went along. Henry did his best to quietly translate what the guide was saying, which inevitably meant cutting short or leaving out some parts for time or clarity, mostly longer or more complex history parts, along with a few improvised terms that he himself didn’t understand.

In the end, it was quiet and largely uneventful. Not a bad thing.

They went out to dinner afterwards, another quiet affair. It was starting to get unnerving. Or tense? At a loss, Henry asked what prompted the brewery tour. Ryeowook stopped picking at his food to say that he saw it on insta and it looked interesting. Like a cold engine, it was a jerky start, but it was enough to get him talking, the flow returning in fits and starts.

When Ryeowook was done - the last to finish, as usual - he demanded they go to a bar. “I want something other than beer. I’m going to look for a bar,” he said, something hard-edged flickering over his face. Donghae half-mumbled that beer still wasn’t his favorite, which seemed as supportive as anything else. Henry acquiesed because the queit was making his skin itch.

He quickly found the nearest one, and walking in was like everything that’d been lacking the last two hours all crammed into a solid surge of sound. It was a loud place, no doubt about that, with music cycling through genres as if a different person was picking each song.

When Ryeowook saw the menu, he immediately looked at Henry with a pleading face that was hilariously pathetic. Easy to see why - all the names were some kind of wordplay, and the list of ingredients was pretty long.

“Okay, okay. I’ll order the first one, _but_ -“ He held out his index finger. “-you have to order the rest of yours yourself. If the bartender can’t understand you, or I can’t, I’m taking you back to the hotel.”

Ryeowook was quick to nod his agreement. Skimming over the stylized list, Henry picked something with bourbon, cinnamon, and simple syrup, figuring whatever else was in there would be fine. He stole a sip as soon as it came, sticking out his tongue as he grabbed the glass, calling it a tax for picking it. _Shit_ , that was good. He might get one of those for himself later.

Getting praised for his choice didn’t hurt, either.

Apparently still cautious about drinking, Donghae sipped at something light and sweet. Henry sampled that one too, a hint of sour lingering afterwards on his tongue. He ended up somewhere between the two extremes, not foolish enough to try anything close to matching Ryeowook drink for drink, but nonetheless wanting to feel more relaxed. He envied how much gigglier Ryeowook was getting, but not in, like, a mean way.

After the second… what was it again? Something with strawberry in it. Hit harder than it looked, he realized after he’d shaken out the last of it into his mouth.

Anyway, he took the time to make his way around the place, chatting with strangers at a volume a little below yelling. He found out where seven people were from, ten professions, five hobbies, the names of two cats, somehow - he didn’t ask, but didn’t mind, either - and forgot it all by the time he returned to a still-giggly Ryeowook and Donghae smiling open and easy at his affection. Ryeowook got handsy when he’d been drinking, which suited Henry just fine.

Right until he stuck one of his freezing hands under Henry’s shirt. “Cold!”

Ryeowook giggled again and didn’t apologize. “Come on, bug Donghae instead!” Intercepting the attack, Donghae took the hand that’d just left Henry’s shirt to hold it between both of his own.

“Ah, that feels nice,” Ryeowook said to Donghae, who now had his full attention, it seemed. “You’re so niiiice. I loooove youuuu.” While that may have been intended to be a hug, it looked a lot more like Ryeowook falling in Donghae’s direction. Time to head back.

Henry graciously finished off whatever the blue stuff was, no matter Ryeowook's pouting, and Donghae's green one, too. Couldn't let them get more impaired, right, that was- bad idea. “Hoo,” he said as more of a breath than a word, putting his hand up to his mouth, though he had no idea why he’d done it. Okay, _really_ time to head back now.

“Come on, let’s go,” he said as he tugged on Ryeowook’s arm, who continued to pout.

“Don't wanna!” Over and over again, too loudly, all the way out the door. At this point, Ryeowook had long since lost his English capacity, not to mention the emotional equilibrium that usually kept him in his position as their rock. Not that they were clueless or helpless without him, but he’d proven to have a knack for smoothing over all sorts of minor crises and small spats, ever ready to give of himself.

Hammered as he was, the only thing he was giving them at the moment was a headache.

“How could I be drunk already? I drink more wine than Kyuhyun,” Ryeowook muttered into the night air, which ignored the fact that none of the colorful concoctions had been anything as mild as wine.

Henry might’ve been close enough to hear him talking in the first place, but he was definitely too wobbly to bother replying to his silliness. Full of a rainbow of drinks and irresistible bad ideas, he’d come to realize, in fact, that on the way to drunk enough to fall flat on your face, there's an in-between step he hit that consisted of singing the chorus of one late nineties pop song after another - the chorus was all he could remember in this state. The other words got all murky and ran away. (How mean. How _cruel_.)

The three of them stuck close together, whether by instinct or to have someone to grab onto. Or catch, in Donghae’s case. In another smart move, he'd laid his arm over Ryeowook's shoulders, which quickly and visibly cheered him up. That the affectionate gesture happened to serve the purpose of also keeping him upright and walking seemed to be lost on him.

Four songs and a taxi ride later, he’d run out of energy in the lobby and struggled to make it back to their room. They shed layer after layer in the same awful stagnant silence from earlier. Henry hated it. He wanted it _gone_. Right this instant.

“Thanks again,” he tried not to mumble, holding onto Donghae's shoulder to plant a sloppy kiss on his cheek.

“You're lucky I still had cash. It's a good thing I'm here,” Donghae said with a delectable smirk.

“Yeah, really good,” Henry agreed in a low voice, staring at his mouth.

Having settled in and stripped down to jeans and a soft, loose t-shirt, Ryeowook apparently thought that this was the absolute best moment to loudly proclaim that he wanted to go out again.

_Why?_ Henry groaned. Regretfully, he wasn’t so wasted himself that he could avoid trying to convince Ryeowook that it was a bad idea to go find another bar and drink more, despite him being all happy-sounding when he kept saying that he wanted to drink more colors or something.

“Aaaaall the colors!” Ryeowook added. For emphasis, apparently. “I haven’t yet-“

Henry cut him off by handing him a water bottle. "Here.” He prodded again. “Take it. Er. Drink this."

"Okay!" Ryeowook cheerfully agreed. After a couple of seconds of watching him struggle, Donghae took it from him to open it himself, then gave it back, his expression blank in a tense sort of way. Once it looked like Ryeowook had stopped paying attention to it, Henry took it for himself, downing another quarter after it’d been half-emptied. The plastic bottle magically disappearing, from his perspective, seemed to be what Ryeowook took as his signal to leap onto the bed backwards.

Henry was proud of himself for having the presence of mind to close the bottle and set it down before he followed suit. In an unexpected turn of events, Donghae joined them slowly and calmly. Everything felt better lying down.

“You know, I don’t miss being up late shopping and cooking like all those years ago, but…” Here, Ryeowook trailed off, staring at the ceiling for a few seconds. “Every once in a while… I sort of, you know, miss being needed that much.”

“That’s okay,” Henry said, relieved that the burden of silence didn’t only fall on him, and that there’d be no need to convince Ryeowook to stay lying down. He himself sure as hell wasn’t getting out of bed. He took Ryeowook’s hand, stroked his thumb over the back, rolled onto his stomach so he could kiss the back of each finger, Ryeowook making weak, wet-sounding giggles at each press of his lips. “If it’d make you feel better, you can take care of me any time.”

“You’re too kind,” Ryeowook said, softly and with great sarcasm, the last of the giggles escaping him. His eyes drooped. Reaching across, Donghae warmed a swath of Henry’s back as he pushed up the sleeve of Ryeowook’s t-shirt to rub up and down his bicep. “Mmmm.” The touch made Ryeowook smile tiredly, with just a hint of teeth, right up until he said, “There’s got to be another bar with different drinks, though,” pouting and turning to look plaintively towards the door.

Abruptly, Donghae retreated back to his own side. “Go to sleep,” he said in a stern tone, ruining the effect a split-second later by chuckling.

It became apparent that Ryeowook didn’t need much convincing as he went silent, curled up on the edge of the bed breathing long, slow breaths.

*

Could be the clouds in the distance, the pressure that’ll come crashing back down on them, that was making him feel frazzled, wild, needy, driving him to climb on top of a surprised but eagerly receptive Donghae, grip his hair, nearly crash their mouths together in his haste to get closer. To _feel_ , to have, to be- “I need- I need-“ then abandoning words entirely in favor of a dance they both knew quite well.

*

Though it might’ve been a good thing that they were up in the middle of the night, it wasn’t exactly… enjoyable. He felt off kilter, nap or no nap. Oh well, they’d already put off packing as long as they could, no point in wasting time. He was perfectly capable of being cranky _and_ getting shit done at the same time.

Only halfway to sober, judging by the wobbling, Ryeowook was the first to start packing though he’d barely woken up. He reminded them that their flight is in the morning (as if they could forget) and it takes a while to get to the airport.

Without a word, Donghae rolled off the bed and went to clean up the discarded plastic and cardboard from the devastation of Snack Mountain, a nice change of pace from his usual tendency to avoid chores at all costs, while Henry rooted around the entire room until he'd found all his socks. After sloppily throwing the rest of his clothing into his suitcase, he watched Donghae putting each of his trinkets away with a precision he rarely saw. The mood was a tad somber, though not unbearably so.

Fast, screechy zipping sounds came rapidfire one after another. Henry dropped the jacket he’d been considering changing into. “What’s up?”

“It won’t go,” Ryeowook said, glaring vaguely downwards.

“Let me take a look.” With a bit of examination and a touch to the small of his back, Henry found the compartment that Ryeowook had been trying to zip up. “Ah, it came off.” It took him more fiddling than expected to get the slider back on track; if he couldn’t see the damn thing right in front of him, he would’ve sworn one of the teeth was bent. And he didn’t have pliers with him.

He zipped the inner compartment closed with dramatic flair, the shrill whir of the teeth being pulled together ringing out triumphantly. “It fits together perfectly now, just like you and me,” he said, winking obnoxiously (and he knew it, too).

“I'm not drunk enough for a line that corny,” Ryeowook proclaimed, even as he was giggling into his fingers. Then he winced. “Ow. That’s what I get for trying to drink that much again.”

Henry rubbed his back for a second, then changed jackets after all.

On the third time checking over his suitcase, muttering under his breath, Ryeowook said too loudly, “Done!” While Henry wasn’t sure if it was bad of him to watch Ryeowook’s struggle with closing said suitcase with a small smile, arms crossed and not intervening, it was probably better to let him do things his own way anyway.

Though he did worry when Ryeowook started cursing up a storm after a loud click.

“Did it break?” Henry asked.

“No,” Ryeowook said, taking a deep breath. “But it won’t close all the way. Push the top down for me?” He added a muttered, “I hardly bought anything…” with a pout and no small amount of petulance in his quiet voice.

“Sure thing.” Setting his own bag aside where he had it on the floor, Donghae levered himself up from a crouch, doing a quick spin before pushing down the misbehaving corner. Left at loose ends, Henry fiddled with his keys and the receipts stuffed into his pockets, watching Donghae’s determined face, his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth.

It worked… for about a second. Then both came undone.

“What the hell?!” Donghae complained. Wiping his hand over his face, Ryeowook opened it up, taking one bag out, then swapping it with another one sitting off to the side.

“It’s fine. I’ll carry that one. It’s more fragile anyway.”

The switch done, Donghae sat on the suitcase this time, telegraphing his every move. If one looked closely, the strain of putting only just enough weight on the bag showed in the muscles of his legs.

_It’s the right thing to do, even if it hurts,_ Henry thought, eyes moving up to his face once more. _I hope I’m wrong and you don’t wanna leave, but if you do… I’ll miss sharing this with you._

Donghae beamed triumphantly when Ryeowook snapped both latches on his suitcase closed and they **stayed** closed. Henry returned it full force. _I love you. So please be happy. It’s what I want for you more than anything._

Pushing off of the suitcase, Donghae hopped down, put his hands on Henry's shoulders, and kissed him soundly before running off to raid the drawers. If Henry didn't know better, he would've sworn Donghae had heard his thoughts. He went to roll up his shirts just to have something to do with his hands, a whisper of warmth lingering on his lips.

*

“Did you have fun?” Ryeowook whispered as they let Donghae sleep a few minutes longer. None of them were strangers to falling asleep with multiple layers of clothes on, even outside-type clothes.

“Yeah, it was great,” Henry answered. “But there’s still my birthday coming up.” He was too sleepy for a smirk, nonetheless attempting a leer; his eyes kept closing of their own accord anyway. He pressed his lips to Ryeowook’s forehead. What a happy feeling this moment was.

“Anything you want.” Ryeowook sounded like he meant it, which was still _so amazing_ that he could just _do_ that like it was nothing.

“I’ll think about it,” Henry said, closing the distance for a kiss as warm as he felt right then. Stretched-out seconds later, contentment reaching down to his toes, he broke it off. “Hey, um, I wanted to ask you something.”

“Mm?” Ryeowook didn’t turn his head so much as let it loll to the side, then snapped it back up. Kinda reminded Henry of an owl. Ah, right, his question.

“Since you observe closely and all… What do you think _I_ want?”

“For your birthday?”

Henry shook his head.

“Ah, I see.” Then Ryeowook smiled, huge and overpowering and beautiful, moving his mouth like he was about to talk or laugh, though his lips never parted. He sounded so _fond_ and looked at Henry so softly as he finally said, “You just want to be loved.”

This time, Henry nodded. He moved carefully so as to not cause any discomfort or damage until Ryeowook’s head rested on his shoulder, Henry’s head on his. “Guilty as charged.” English again. He'd have to get unused to that. Switching back, he quickly said, "You're right," tempering the odd uncomfortable feeling that rose up with a small smile. Only afterwards did he realize that Ryeowook couldn’t see his face.

“Of course I am,” Ryeowook shot back in a strained whisper. Henry wordlessly reached for a mini water bottle left next to the bed, tapping Ryeowook’s hand with it.

“Let’s go home.”

*

Henry bumped Ryeowook with his hip as he passed, making Ryeowook’s wheeled suitcase careen sideways along with him before it righted itself. In the next instant, he’d barely gotten a noise of complaint out when he let out an even louder yelp, which meant Donghae had smacked his butt and bumped him from the other side. He huffed.

“How long are you two going to torment me? Seriously.”

Henry hummed. “I don’t know,” he said, all false innocence. “Ask me again in ten years.”

Donghae laughed so hard that he stopped where he was, so Ryeowook took his arm to shake him forward. “Come on, hyung, I want to sit down.”

“Okay, okay. First, come here, listen to this,” Donghae said while holding out an earbud. When Henry looked back, the two of them were giggling together, their heads tilted intimately close. He waited for them to catch up. It took no time at all for them to start talking over each other, Ryeowook bracing himself on Donghae’s arm so that he didn’t fall from the laughter between his words as they tried to explain the background info that would hopefully make sense of whatever it was.

Though Henry tried to get them to slow down and talk one at a time, the effort was in vain, so he resorted to making fun of their nonsense fragments and blurting out every ridiculous phrase he thought he heard them say. The feedback loop of laughter only grew stronger when his was added in, rising higher and higher until it burned itself out, leaving only a pleasant aching in his gut that he felt as he turned, and a shared joy that needed no words added to it.

They walked forward together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had this series planned out since _July of last year_ and only finished it now!
> 
> Thank you to all my lovelies for your immeasurable help, most of which was, unfortunately, listening to me whining about writing this. XD An especially huge thanks to a certain someone who not only gave me ideas and input that were critical to me writing the first part of the series, but also, gave me the _confidence_ to start at all. My appreciation for all your support and encouragement is beyond the ability of any words to convey.
> 
> I hope everyone is safe and happy in the year ahead.


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